


give me silence

by huff_le_puff



Series: No Second Chances Allowed [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Parents, Awesome Molly Weasley, Bilingual Character(s), Childhood Memories, Christmas Presents, Family Issues, Feelings Realization, Flashbacks, Fred Is TIRED, Gen, George Weasley Is Lovesick, Hermione Granger Bashing, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kinda, Light Angst, Lydia Cannot Ask For Affection Coherently But She Can Kill You With A Toothpick, Lydia Is A Bisexual Disaster, Lydia Is Only Oblivious When it Comes To Herself, Lydia Scares Neville But He Likes It, Mind Reading, Missions Gone Wrong, Molly Weasley Is A Gossip, Molly Weasley Just Wants To Paint Someone’s Nails, Molly Weasley Takes No Shit, Molly Weasley Tries But She's Too Optimistic, Oh And SOme Goblins, Padma and Parvati Actually Have A Good Time, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Professor Filius Flitwick Is The Best, Protective Fred Weasley, Ron Weasley And The Foot In His Mouth, Secret Crush, Shopping, Sirius Black Is Concerned, Skipping Class, Slightly Illegal Plot Made By A Teenage Girl And Fugitive, Summer Love, Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball (Harry Potter), because Lydia doesn't dress up, cute babies crushing on each other but they don't realize it yet, more like george gets stuck in her mind, not really bashing. she just knows how to hit a nerve, or dogs, or use make up, parvati and lavender are crying, wait. not literal babies. they're 14, wtf harry and ron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huff_le_puff/pseuds/huff_le_puff
Summary: Lydia’s determined her fourth year will be better. There’s no hope of staying unnoticed at Hogwarts, now that she’s spent summers with the Weasley family and hangs around Harry Potter, but at least the Daily Prophet hasn’t gotten anything of her - and it’s going to stay that way!Her summer doesn’t go well, at all, but the school year has to be better. Perhaps even the best yet! Nothing out of the ordinary, just studying and playing pranks.
Relationships: Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s) (one-sided), Harry Potter & Original Female Character(s), Lydia McBrien & Family, Molly Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Neville Longbottom & Original Female Character(s), Poppy Pomfrey & Original Female Character(s)
Series: No Second Chances Allowed [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659640
Kudos: 19





	1. Three Weeks In Hell (AKA America)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mierda caliente. Lydia, what happened?”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Basically Lydia’s summer is angst with a few sprinkles of happiness - typical for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for the McBrien family (as in mention of g*ns, ab*se, and mafia like stuff. Oh and bruises.) H*mophobia, also implies starvation. Not as graphic as in chamber of secrets, (in the books, with Harry being starved etc.) but it’s there.

Lydia feels a little guilty saying her entire summer was shit. Because yes, it was shit. She had spent three weeks in America so far, with the typical dislike from her family, brutal training exercises in the morning, and meal restriction she was no longer used to, it was shitty. 

But there had been exactly one bright spot: a Muggle girl named Eloise Mary Howard. 

Let her rephrase, a  _ very pretty _ Muggle girl named Eloise Mary Howard. 

The first time Lydia had seen Eloise, her breath had caught. She had coughed, trying to get air into her lungs. 

Eloise had turned, her bright blue hair falling into her face. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“I-” Lydia had said something gibberish, and Eloise had laughed. 

“Hi, I’m Eloise Mary Howard. Want an orange?”

Lydia had held out her hand for the orange, and noticed Eloise’s hands were bandaged up. 

“Your hands, are they okay?”

Eloise smiled. “Yeah, I beat up this  _ perra culo _ , who tried to hurt a dog. Really, who hurts a dog?”

Lydia is sure her heart fluttered. “Wow, you’re so nice.”

Eloise smiled. “So...I didn’t get your name?”

“Lydia, I’m Lydia.”

Eloise grinned, and grabbed Lydia’s hand. “Can I show you something?”

Lydia nodded, and Eloise sprinted out of the parking lot. 

Their feet slapping against the pavement, oranges in their hands, Eloise guided them to a field of different colored roses. 

“Here.”

They sat down, and Lydia couldn’t help noticing that here, where the only one to see them was the sun, Eloise looked prettier than any painting ever made.

Her lip gloss shone, and her brown skin seemed to glow in the sun’s rays. 

Eloise leaned forward, and squeezed Lydia's hands. 

“You’re so damn pretty.”

“So are you.”

“So…”

Lydia, in a rare moment of not thinking, leaned forward and kissed Eloise Mary Howard. And things were good. 

But good things don’t last for people like Lydia. 

Eloise and she had been meeting any chance they got, and one day, just past three weeks of her being in America, Henry caught them in the field. 

Henry’s face was impassive, as it always was, but Lydia knew it meant bad things for her. 

And bad things she got. 

When she picked the house’s lock later that night, nearly her entire family was waiting for her. Before she could try escaping back through the door, her cousin Hudson stepped in front of it. 

“Lydia Beth,” her father called, “Henry brought us quite a wealth of information today. Now tell me, what do you think that was?”

“Perhaps something to do with the Smith family down on twelfth street?”

Someone slammed their hand into the wall. Turning, Lydia saw it was her uncle. 

“You tryin’ to make my boy a  _ liar? _ Nah, girlie, this information was about you.”

It should be noted that Lydia was mentally compiling her will. Even so, she said, “Was it? Then we should talk about it over supper, don’t you think?”

Her grandmother walked in from the dark hallway. “Now, why do you think you’ll be getting any of that tonight?”

Lydia raised her eyebrows. “I  _ did  _ just close that deal with Alexander Orville. You know, the one that gave you a thousand bucks?”

“Of course I know!” Her grandmother screamed. The pictures rattled. “Admit it, you’re trying to shame this family! You want to see this family broke and struggling!”

Lydia had to restrain a snort. “You actually think I want that?”

“Why else would you-you associate yourself with-with-”

Lydia raised a patient eyebrow. 

Finally, her father gasped out, “You canoodle with girls! You are a girl!”

Lydia really couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Maybe she was spending too much time with the Weasleys. “ _ Canoodling? _ Oh my god you’re fucking hilarious!”

Her grandmother lunged forward and gripped both of Lydia’s arms, shaking her violently. The grip would surely bruise within minutes, it was that tight, and her neck was aching the way it bobbed. 

“I will not tolerate that mess! You will ruin us!”

Lydia screamed in her grandmother’s face, shocking her so much that she was shoved away. 

Thudding into the wall, Lydia was pulled against a chest. Someone grabbed her arms, and Lydia began thrashing with all her energy. 

“GET OFF ME.”

She felt her feet jam into a table, and one of her fists hit flesh. 

“To her bedroom! And lock the door!” That was her father, and as she was carried by, she landed a kick on his nose. Hopefully it would bruise.

She waited until Nicolas was fast asleep under her bed covers, cuddled to one of her old stuffed animals, to pack. 

It had been a week since they sent her to her room, and she had only been given one glass of water. Nicolas was taken out every other day, and always came back quiet. She didn’t want to imagine what they were doing. 

She jammed as many clothes as she could into her backpack, along with a few energy bars that were stale. They would do. 

Lydia didn’t bother doing much more, just slipped on a jacket and pried her window open. 

Sitting on the sill, she whispered to her brother, “I’m sorry, Nicky.”

Then, she jumped into the rose bush. 

“Lydia, what are you doing here?  _ Mi abuela  _ will kill me if she hears!”

Lydia dropped the pebbles she was holding (yes, throwing pebbles at someone’s window is cliche, sue her.) and climbed the slightly cracked trellis in front of Eloise’s window, she carefully balanced herself. “I have to leave. My family found out about us. They’re not too happy.”

Eloise’s eyes widened, and she let out a quiet swear, looking behind her into her bedroom, likely worried her abuela would hear. That woman had the ears of a bat, and the sight of one too. “ _ Mierda caliente. _ Lydia, what happened?”

Lydia sighed, and shook her shoulder until the sleeve slid off. The purple and blue shone in the moonlight. 

Eloise gasped and reached a hand out, hovering just a few inches from Lydia’s skin. It made her tingle. “ _ Lo siento, mucho cariño. _ ” 

Lydia squeezed her hand and whispered, “Be careful. I wouldn’t want them to hurt you.”

“What about you?”

“You know I told you I only come here in summer?”

“ _ Si _ .”

“I have somewhere in Ireland I can go. If not there, England. I’ll be okay. And...maybe next time I’m around we can see each other.”

Eloise nodded, leaned over her windowsill, and kissed Lydia. “For the road.”

Lydia smiled. “For the road.”

* * *

“Grandfather, hi. How are things?”

“I should be asking you, granddaughter. Have you gotten in trouble?” His voice had that weary amusement it always did. She could almost see his smile.

“Maybe. I just need you to pick me up at the Dublin airport.”

“Where did you get the money for a ticket?”

Lydia snorted. “Dad’s credit card, of course.”

Her grandfather sighed. “I’m booked, Lydia. I’ll have someone else pick you up. Be-”

“Prompt, I know. See you?”

“Very soon.” Lie.

Now, Lydia was standing in the airport, after a twelve hour flight, and had to scrub at her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming still. 

Arthur Weasley was running towards her, dressed in some combination of a pantsuit and clown costume. 

She couldn’t help laughing hysterically in relief. 

“Mr. Weasley!” She called, running into his arms. His strong arms holding her in a hug made her tremble, finally relaxing. “Thank you so much for coming.”

He rubbed her back comfortingly, looking more than slightly worried. “Of course, little one. Let’s go home, shall we?”

And so, Arthur Weasley delivered them to the Burrow, the only place Lydia truly felt home nowadays. 

She ran right into the entryway, yelled a hello to Mrs. Weasley (“Your dress is beautiful, dear!” “Thanks, it itches like crazy!”), and slammed open the door to the twins’ room. 

Immediately, they covered the pranking product they’d been working on with a quilt, this catching it on fire. 

Lydia watched with a small little smile on her face. Fred immediately doused the fire with a glass of water, then tried to cover the product with his body. 

“Relax, it’s just me mad scientists.”

They looked up at her excitedly, then the looks turned to confusion. 

George is gawking, and says, “Since when do you get dolled up?”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, plopping herself on the floor in front of them. “Piss off. It wasn’t my choice to wear this. Or to curl my hair.  _ Or  _ to cake on the makeup. I haven’t had time to go home yet, so I’m still in my American uniform.”

“They make you wear uniforms in America?”

“You came directly here?”

Ignoring the question of why hadn’t she gone home, she answered George’s question. 

“At home, I have...expectations. I need to look a certain way, behave a certain way. No jumpers, no pants, always fancy dresses, make up, hair down and curled… The list goes on.”

“How did you get here if you haven’t gone home yet?”

“Your dad.” She smiled. “He picked me up from the airport since my mom and grandfather were both working.” With a sigh, “Mom’s got a fourth job now.”

Not for the first time, the twins wished they could help their younger friend. 

A few moments were spent in silence, save for the hissing of the slowly cooling down product that had blown up. 

Then, Fred slipped an arm around her shoulders and asked, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

She winced and shifted so he wasn’t touching her hidden bruise. 

“God-” She breaks off, bringing a fist to her mouth to stifle a quiet sob. 

Fred pulls her into his chest without hesitation, and George moves to hug them both. 

“It’s okay princess, we’ve got you.”

“Yeah, we’re right here.”

She manages to quiet herself enough, she whispers, “I ran away. I was gonna stay longer but I couldn’t fucking do it.”

George pulls away from her, grinning at her annoyed whimper. 

“Couldn’t do what?”

She sniffles. “My cousin saw me doing something I shouldn’t’ve and snitched. They got really angry, and locked me in my room for a week straight.”

“Why would they do that?”

She hesitated, and whispered, “I...I’m scared to tell you.”

“Why?”

She squinted at them through new tears, and dipped her head so she didn’t have to look at them anymore. 

“If I tell you, you might hate me forever.”

They gasped at each other for a minute, not that Lydia could see, and then George put his hand under her chin. 

She flinched, and he whispered, “We’d never leave you, princess.”

“Yeah,” Fred grinned, “You can’t get rid of us!”

She snorted. 

“Now keep your head up, princess-”

“-before your crown falls, and tell us what’s going on.”

She smiled slightly when she confessed, “I had my first kiss.”

The twins snapped their gazes to each other, then jumped up and grasped hands. They jumped, the wooden floor thudding beneath them. 

By the time they had finished cheering and jumping, Mrs. Weasley had hollered at them twice, Percy yelled four times, and Lydia was blushing. 

“Stop, stop it!” Lydia hissed, swatting at their hands. “Get back down here!”

They sat down again, grinning at her. 

Fred set his chin in his hand. “Tell us  _ everything _ .”

Sobering, she said, “It was a girl, okay!”

They shrugged, giving each other confused looks. “Okay, and?”

She glared fiercely. “Seriously? That’s all? I kissed a girl! That’s not - you can’t - my family they - I really can’t -”

George, always the more protective of the two, demanded, “What did your family do?”

Fred said more softly, “We love you and kissing girls won’t change that.”

Ignoring George in favor of flinging herself at Fred in a hug, she said, “You’re so much nicer than they were. I love you both.” 

Lydia woke the next morning to gentle shaking. The twins were out of the room, and Mrs. Weasley was in front of her. 

“Good morning, dear. Have plans with the twins today?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it.”

“Right, now for what I wanted to talk about! Tonight, sleep in Ginny’s room, yes?”

Lydia flushed. “Sorry! I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep.”

Mrs. Weasley gave her hand a pat, then left, tossing a quick reminder over her shoulder, “Breakfast will be done in ten minutes, come down. You’re much too skinny.”

Lydia snorted and began combing fingers through her tangled hair. 

She got down a slice of toast, and began to feel ill when Percy nudged her foot from across the table. 

He leaned in and whispered, “Alright?”

She forced a smile. “Yeah, just...not hungry.”

The twins exchanged worried glances, and Lydia added, “I didn’t have much food this past week, is all.”

“Ah,” Percy nodded, “I understand. Well there’s plenty here if you get peckish.”

The twins shared another glance, but Fred said, “Say Lydia, how about we invite Colin, Luna, and Neville over? Gin’s missed you an awful lot, and she’s itching for an adventure.”

And an adventure they have! As it turns out, Colin lived only a few miles from Ottery St. Catchpole, so after grabbing the bicycles from Mr. Weasley’s shed and waiting for Neville to Floo over, the five teenagers began to bike along the dirt path that would lead past Luna’s house and then on to Cowley, snacks bulging from their pockets. 

Just when Neville was complaining for the fifth time that his legs were aching, they pulled up to a two story house. 

Shrugging at her hesitant friends, Ginny abandoned her bike in the grass and walked right up to the door, knocking three times. 

The twins rolled their eyes and hurried after her, calling, “Ginny! You don’t knock on strangers’ doors!”

Luna grabbed Neville and Lydia’s hands, waiting for Lydia to ready her knife.

They were not greeted with a stranger, but Colin and Dennis. Behind them a man stood in a mail carrier’s uniform. 

“You must be Col’s friends! Come in, he’s shown me so many photos.”

They grinned at each other, and Lydia said, “Sounds like him. Did he show you the one he took of our school’s squid?”

They had left with even more food, along with stomachs full of lunch, courtesy of Colin’s dad. 

Colin stood on the back pegs of Luna’s bicycle, steadying himself by holding her shoulders. Together, they rode until they got to a town just another mile or so past Cowley.

Lydia wiped a hand over her sweaty forehead, tying her jacket around her waist. “Shit, it’s hot. What do y’all say to getting some ice cream from this town?”

They all cheered, and Colin pulled out a banknote. “It’s on me!”

They were licking their ice cream cones, sitting on the quilt Colin’s mum had offered, when a large bug eyed dog came trotting over and stole Neville’s right from his hand. 

The boy flipped onto the grass, and sighed out, “Why’s it always me?”

Lydia chuckled and nudged a scoop off hers and onto a napkin. “Hurry up, Nev, it’ll melt.”

(Yes, Colin  _ did  _ get a photo of Neville licking a napkin, stress written on his face. It was hilarious.)

The dog plopped itself down on Ginny’s lap, and the girl immediately fell in love. 

“Can we keep him, Fred and George?”

“Why are you asking us?” They chorused. 

Ginny grinned. “You’re the oldest of us, which means you’re the responsible ones.”

The twins looked horrified at the idea, and Lydia laughed herself silly. 

“No! Absolutely not! We have three owls, chickens, and your father just bought a goat. Absolutely  _ no more animals _ !”

It was safe to say Mrs. Weasley didn’t let them keep the dog. Even though it was so cute and honestly, the fur would be cheaper to knit than yarn was - that is to say, on the way back home Chio had already shed enough for them each to have a handful of fur.

Colin, letting the dog in the living room, raised a hand. “I can take Chio home. Dennis’ll love her.”

Mrs. Weasley held up a hand, looking slightly more relieved. “Chio? You named her?”

Ginny grinned up at her mum. “Yeah! We were brainstorming, and Lydia said...what was it?”

“ _ Chiot _ . It means puppy.”

“Right! Well we can’t say that because it’s French, so then Neville suggested we shorten it to Chio! It’s similar but not hard to say.”

(In truth, they had debated on the name for close to an hour. Ginny wanted to name it buggy, because he looked like a bug, but Luna thought that to be rude. They had only decided on Chio because Colin thought the name Chip was nice but too basic. Lydia had searched through her brain for words that had similar sound, and decided on the French word chio, which meant puppy. At least she thought it did -she hadn’t brushed up on her French in too long.)

Mrs. Weasley looked at the twins. “It was too much to believe you’d be responsible, wasn’t it?”

Lydia frowned, and noticed that even though the twins were still grinning and made a joke to her, they looked hurt. She would have to fix that. 

Ginny grabbed her hand before Lydia could attempt anything, dragging her up the stairs. Lydia grabbed Luna, who grabbed Colin, and then Chio was racing after them.

Mrs. Weasley let out a frustrated yell.

Lydia had been staying in Ginny’s room, as every other summer, and it was getting cramped. For the first two weeks, it had just been her and Ginny so she had slept in the normal cot. Then, they got the news that Hermione would be joining, so Lydia had moved to sharing Ginny’s bed. Now Luna was also staying until the Quidditch Cup when her father would meet them at the Burrow to travel, and they were very excited! But there was no room. Even if Mrs. Weasley tried, there’s no way they could cram another cot in here. So, the three best friends had been cramming into Ginny’s bed horizontally. 

Hermione had been trying to spend as little time as possible in there with them since she had arrived two days ago, which Lydia was slightly thankful for. She didn’t hate Hermione, it was just hard to keep her hands away from the girl’s face. 

Hermione didn’t like the things she and her friends did for fun. Like right now: Playing with glitter. (To be fair, Mrs. Weasley didn’t like it either.)

“Luna, why do you have the glitter so close to your eyes?”

The younger girl giggled and then shook the small container, the little particles falling onto the slowly drying paste. 

Ginny gently brushed some off her eyelashes. “Lydia, the camera!”

Lydia rolled her eyes at her friends, but snatched the old camera from Colin’s napping hands. She turned it on and snapped a photo.

“We’ll have to ask your dad to get these developed, Gin. I think we’re running out of space.”

“Already?! But we need room for the photos on Sunday!”

The Quidditch Cup. The only thing the Weasleys spoke about at meals. But no, Lydia refused to think about it. So, she snapped another photo of the glitter on Luna’s face, while the girl stuck her tongue out and went cross eyed.

Neville had glitter on his eyebrows, and he was attempting to blink it away from his eyes, face contorting in funny ways. Chio’s fur was doused in blue and purple glitter. Lydia herself had glitter in a smattering of multicolored freckles across her nose and cheeks. 

Hopefully they wouldn’t clog up the Weasley’s shower again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now know way too much about bikes! My search history just looks like: “bike stand things, what are cylinders on bike, can you ride on bike pegs” etc.  
> That last bit with the glitter was going to be a little scne, but I decided to add it here instead. :)  
> Anyway!! Hope you enjoyed it :) I went to Virginia for a week, and wrote this on the way back (roughly 15 hours!) so I’m hoping it’s good. 
> 
> words: 3288
> 
> Next Week: Lydia spends some time with Molly Weasley. Literally pure fluff (possibly with a side of our two brilliant witches fighting)!
> 
> oh by the way, the Spanish was from Google Translate, so super sorry about any inaccuracy. 
> 
> Mi abuela - My grandmother  
> Mierda caliente - hot shit  
> Lo siento, mucho cariño - I'm so sorry, darling.  
> Si - Yes


	2. Girl’s Day & America The Not So Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I won’t bother you at all, I’ll be knitting scarves and jumpers in the old armchair."  
>  "Maybe you could bother me."  
>  “Oh, a girl’s day! We’ll have so much fun. Tell me, what do you think of nail varnish? Ginny hasn’t let me paint her nails or do her hair in years, I'm so excited. Oh, I must make you a dress! Something in an emerald color would suit you - or perhaps a light blue...Decisions, decisions!”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Lydia spends the day being mothered by Mrs. Weasley.

Lydia woke up earlier than the rest of the house on the 18th of August, which was seriously weird because they were all leaving at dawn. Hermione was out of her bed when Lydia glanced at it, probably waking Ron and Harry.

After tying her hair up and throwing on comfortable clothes, Lydia went down the steps with a pattering so quick she practically floated.

Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen cooking as usual, and Mr. Weasley was struggling through a cup of coffee. The liquor cabinet was locked, and Lydia smirked at the sight.

“Mr. Weasley,” she whispered cheekily, “If you need me to pick the liquor cabinet’s lock I know how.”

He laughed, then pointed where Mrs. Weasley was frying eggs with her wand. “Don’t let her hear that, young lady.”

Lydia chuckled, and left him for said woman.

“Mrs. Weasley, good morning.”

“You’re up early, Lydia! Eager for the game?”

“Oh no, I’m not one for Quidditch. I think the twins gave my ticket to Lee, once they heard I wasn’t break-a-window excited.”

Mrs. Weasley sighed. “Did they break a window?”

“Uh...We fixed it?”

Mrs. Weasley tutted, then handed Lydia a scrap of the roll crust she was baking. “Taste - is it too doughy? Why are you up then? You need the extra sleep.”

“Very good, Ma’am. Perfectly crispy. And uh, I just woke up and came down here. Actually…”

Mrs. Weasley seemed to know Lydia was nervous, because she turned from the food and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, darling?”

“I was wondering, could I stay with you while everyone else goes to the match?”

“Of course, what did you think we’d do, send you away? No, nonsense! I won’t bother you at all, I’ll be knitting scarves and jumpers in the old armchair. Just let me know if you go outside, and you’re free to do whatever you like.”

“Maybe you could bother me? I guess what I’m failing to say is that I’d like to spend time with you if that’s alright.”

Really, Lydia needn't have worried. In what world would Molly Weasley turn a child away?

“Oh, a girl’s day! We’ll have so much fun. Tell me, what do you think of nail varnish? Ginny hasn’t let me paint her nails or do her hair in years, I'm so excited. Oh, I must make you a dress! Something in an emerald color would suit you - or perhaps a light blue...Decisions, decisions!”

Yeah, Lydia really needn’t have worried.

They had baked three different pies, two tarts, and were now cooking lunch. Lydia’s new dress had the measurements done, and Mrs. Weasley was determined to teach Lydia to sew. Apparently that was the kind of thing magical children learned - sewing and baking. (Lydia would really have to ask Percy to make her a souffle because Mrs. Weasley said his desserts were the best she’d tasted. And this was Molly Weasley, renowned baker!)

Where Lydia came from, albeit not a traditional family, you learned knife tricks and pressure points to incapacitate someone. 

“So, what’s the life of Lydia McBrien like, hm? Anyone you fancy? Or maybe an enemy like Ron seems to have?”

Lydia snorts. “Mrs. Weasley, I don’t have the time! I’m earning two education sat once, trying to set Luna up with her oblivious crush, and somehow teach Neville confidence.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Well, maybe you have an admirer or two.”

“Yeah, I doubt that. The only boys in my year that I talk to are Harry, Ron, Neville, Terry, and Rhys. And I only talk to Terry and Neville regularly.”

“Who said they have to be in your year?” She was slicing potatoes, but Mrs. Weasley’s small grin was easy to see.

“Mrs. Weasley, do you know someone that fancies me?”

Yes, Mrs. Weasley did.

The first month of their summer holidays both twins had been more restless than usual. After the third stress prank on Percy, Molly and Arthur had sat them down.

“Boys, you’re not yourselves. Please we want to help you.”

“As annoyed as your pranks are making me, and they are,” Molly sighed, “I just want to help you through this stress you both are dealing with. My boys do not act like this, and we’re worried.”

“But we can’t help if we don't understand, so help us understand.”

The twins had looked at them, and then Fred had nudged George. (She thinks it’s George. Molly is never quite sure.)

“Mum, Dad, we’re worried about Lydia! She hasn’t owled us or anything since school, and we know how much she hates it in America!”

Arthur, bless him, had been perfectly calm when he tried to soothe them. “Maybe Lydia is just having fun, do you think? It can be tricky to find an owl, especially on holiday.”

“But she’s not on holiday! She didn’t want to go, they made her! And they’re mean, Dad, they’re really mean to her.”

Molly and Arthur had looked at each other, worried expressions on both their faces. The twins had never looked so upset, but they were both looking near tears. Whether from exhaustion or worry, neither sounded good.

Molly had leaned forward and rested a hand on each of their knees. “Why don’t you explain?”

Unlike how they usually spoke together, only one spoke now.

“Whenever Lydia mentions she’s visiting, she shakes. And her lips are always bitten bloody after she gets a letter from her dad. When she came back from visiting her dad in March she was so sad for months! And nothing we did helped! It was so scary, Mum and Dad, it was like we’d lost our best friend. Like she’d been Kissed.”

Arthur gave their shoulders a pat and went to say something, when a simple barn owl tapped the window. He stood, and his eyebrows flew up.”Well, this is certainly good timing. Lydia’s grandfather wants to speak with me.”

Late that night something had picked at Molly’s brain. Mother’s intuition, perhaps. Something told her to watch Lydia carefully when she saw her next. And so Molly did - it wasn’t wise to ignore gut feelings, afterall. 

And what she noticed was...interesting.

When Lydia arrived with Arthur, Molly hadn’t gotten a good look at her besides an awful frilly dress and her hair being curled. Molly knew Lydia didn’t style her hair like that, and she’d never worn a dress in Molly’s memory, so it set off bells in her mind. But Molly ignored it.

She came upon the twins cuddling Lydia the next morning, all of them with dried tears on their faces. The twins had nearly bit her when she tried to pick Lydia up and put her to bed - odd.

Lydia and the twins seemed too natural around each other. Almost soulmates, if Molly believed such a notion. They were just so comfortable together. Again, that feeling in her brain sparked. George and Lydia held hands and hugged and generally just stuck like a group of doxies in a curtain - odd.

Molly came to the conclusion that her little boy fancied Lydia. It would be quite adorable. And, if Lydia felt the same, why Lydia could become a Weasley! Hermione could marry Ron, Harry could marry Ginny, oh it would be perfect. 

(Yes they’re children but Molly’s a romantic at heart.)

“Oh, I have a feeling perhaps one of the twins. You’re awfully close you know.” She wouldn’t outright say it, especially because George himself hadn’t told her. But it wouldn’t hurt to test the waters, would it?

Lydia shook her head, sprinkling bay leaves into the boiling pot. “No, I don’t think so. We’re friends, is all. They like to protect me, and when we don’t see each other for a while they act kinda feral.”

So that was a no, then. Shame.

(Although, Lydia had blushed quite a bit, so maybe there was hope…)

That night, Molly went to bed feeling even more disappointed. They’d had a wonderful dinner, then Molly had asked Lydia if she’d heard any magical tales.

“No, I never thought about it. Have you got anything like Cinderella, or Pinnochio?”

“No, but we have the Three Brothers, and Babbity Rabbity are my favorites. Would you like me to read them?”

Lydia had looked stunned. “You’d read them...to me?”

“I know you’re a little old-”

“No, I… I’d like that a lot. I’ve just never been read to, is all. But I’d really like it.”

Molly had read every single story, because what parent doesn’t read to their child? 

Lydia was hers now, and she’d get all the stories she wanted.

* * *

Lydia knew that house elves, for the majority, enjoyed their work. She had spoken extensively with both Rosy and Lilsey about the subject in the time she’d known them. When she first learned that the magical community had house elves as practically slaves had she been horrified? Yes, she had. But rather than the route Hermione was taking - set them free without talking to them - Lydia had chosen to ask them as many questions as they let her. And it had been enlightening!

When Hermione began ranting at Percy about the subject, she couldn’t hold in her snort of laughter.

“What, I suppose  you want an elf of your own?”

“Hermione, I’m friends with like, three different house elves. We’ve talked about how they feel on the subject and they’ve told me they’re happy with things-”

“They don’t know what they want! They’ve been brainwashed!”

Ginny began pulling insistently on Lydia’s arm, but she was ignored. “Hermione, Rosy enjoys making food for the students. She thinks it’s fun. And Lilsey takes her job of looking over the students very seriously. Have you even spoken to elves?”

“They don’t know what’s best for them.”

“Look, it’s...nice...what you’re trying to do. But unless you speak to them and ask what they want-”

“You can’t talk. Your country took forever to abolish slavery.”

“The difference between when the United States ended slavery and when Great Britain ended it is only about sixty years.”

Hermione gave her a furious glare, and Lydia held her hands up in surrender. “Alright, I get it. The United States sucks.”

Hermione began to rant again, and Lydia stood.

“Well, I’m exhausted. I’m going to go have dreams of America, now. See you tomorrow.”

She made sure to bow in true twin fashion as she left.

Ginny tried to be a good friend. So, when Lydia pretended to be tired and went to bed, Ginny followed after only a few minutes. 

Lydia was laying in Ginny’s too small bed, facing Hermione’s cot with half lidded eyes. Her hair was trapped in one of her fists, a thing she’d been doing recently when she was fighting a bad dream.

“Lydia, wake up.” She whispered, poking Lydia’s legs. One of them kicked out, and then Lydia was blinking at her, scarily alert or having just woken.

“Hey, Ginny.”

Ginny smiled at her, and lowered herself to lie down. “Are you alright?”

A snort. “Yeah. Just trying to stop imagining myself punching Hermione.”

“Yeah, I get that feeling sometimes.” She smiled. “But Hermione isn’t all bad.”

“I know. We just never see eye to eye.”

“No one can meet your eye, you’re too tall.”

Lydia giggled, and turned to look at the ceiling. Ginny copied.

After lying in silence for too long, Ginny said, “I’m sorry Hermione said all that about your home country.”

“No, it’s - America isn’t home. It hasn’t been for a long time. It just upsets me that she would dismiss me like that, like if my opinion isn’t hers I’m not worth talking to. I mean, I wasn’t even alive during slavery! Sure, the United States is still wrought with racism, and I knew a lot of people like that, but -” She shakes her head. “It just sucks.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Lydia hums.

“What did you mean when you said the United States wasn’t your home country? Weren’t you born there?”

“When I was eight, someone tried to kill me, so my mom and grandfather moved to Ireland, as a means to get away. I wasn’t hard to convince, though most kids would have been. I’ve always felt like an outsider there, and always thought I was meant to be born somewhere else. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not perfect here, but it’s as perfect as I think I’ll ever get.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re a Brit now.”

Lydia grinned and faced Ginny. “Thanks.”

“Have good, British dreams, Lydia.”

“You too, you little imp.”

* * *

George Weasley is not having a good week. Immediately after he and his family had gotten home after the disaster that was the Quidditch Cup - yes, the match itself was insanely cool, but Bagman had yet to hand over he and Fred’s winnings! Oh, and the Dark Mark thing. - Lydia had been wide awake, under eyes so dark he spotted them before he actually spotted her blue eyes. She’d been waiting up in he and Fred’s room, apparently needing to see they were okay for herself. Bed sharing was nothing new for them after all these years, so she’d slept in their room, waking just after sunrise to sneak back into Ginny’s room.

They’d been told that very morning by Dad that Lydia’s grandfather wanted her home by lunch, worried out of his mind. How he even knew, since no owl traveled that fast, George had no idea. 

So Lydia had had to pack her things and their summer was cut short. 

Then their parents had refused to let anyone but Percy and Dad leave, and only then for work or groceries. That he might have handled. What he  could not  handle was the silence he was getting from Lydia. No owls, or calls on the necklace at all since she’s left! There was no way she could be back in America with only a few days until school started, but if not there then why was she cutting off contact?

His mum became suspicious on the second day of George’s self imposed silence. The way he figured it, if Lydia wouldn’t speak to him what was the point in speaking at all? Dramatic, Fred told him, but George liked drama. 

“Darling, what’s the matter? You’ve barely spoken at all lately. Are you worried about the Dark Mark? Because it’s okay-”

“No, Mum. I’m not scared over the Dark Mark business. I just miss Lydia.”

“Oh,” she smirked. “You miss Lydia?”

“Yeah! It’s stupid, since I’ll see her so soon, but I really miss her. I got used to seeing her everyday.”

She swept his overgrown fringe aside. “You’ll see her soon, love. I know how hard it is, you know. When your father and I first started dating it was dreadful not seeing him over the holidays.”

It took him a moment to understand what she was saying. When he did, his face lit up like a light. “No! Lydia and I aren’t like you and Dad. She’s just like…”

“Like a sister?”

“Ew, no. She’s...She's Lydia, okay? I don’t know what she is. But I miss her and I don’t like being away from her. But we’re not...not that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Of course not, she’s only thirteen. But dear, perhaps you should acknowledge that you fancy her. Merlin knows we all noticed.”

“YOU HAVE?!”

“Goodness, don’t scream! But yes, I have. I can’t say for sure about Ronnie, he can be a bit oblivious, but your father and I certainly have. Why do you think Percy’s seldom left you alone with Lydia all summer? He’s a bit protective.”

“I’m his brother!”

She laughed. “But she’s a girl, and it’s a bit more traditional to protect little girls. And Percy is nothing if not old fashioned.”

George snorted. 

“Have you packed? The train leaves early tomorrow.”

And then George gave it no further thought because his trunk was empty. 

When Lydia came running through the barrier, suddenly George saw optical flares in yellows and reds. His vision was lacking for all but her. It was, quite frankly, concerning. Was this a heart attack?

She looked around for a moment, before Fred caught her attention. Sprinting for them, Fred picked her off the ground and spun her in a hug. 

She laughed when he let her down, then came to stand in front of George. 

“George, hey!”

He couldn’t speak, and wasn’t that startling?

Lydia’s hands were waving in front of his face, and he really should blink, but if he did she might disappear. 

“Hey, anyone in there?  George? ” Turning to Fred, “The fuck is wrong with him?”

Fred was chuckling, the prat. “Just glad to see you, his brain cells have given up. Wait a minute.”

George finally blinked, and Lydia grinned. “Glad to see you back, peabrain. How was the rest of your summer-oh, hi Mrs. Weasley!”

His mum had reached for Lydia and patted her cheek, grabbing her for a full hug. Apparently his mum was now attached as well. 

“Oh, Darling, I’m so glad to see you again!” She turned away, and Lydia settled herself back in front of George. 

“Sorry about that.” Was she seriously apologizing for a hug? What?  “How was the rest of your summer?”

“Alright. Freddie and I came up with Warbling Whispies. It’s just these little orbs that sit and play various audio. You cast it to play, and it’ll do whatever.”

“That’s great! I can’t wait to try it out.”

Ginny, from the near right, called out, “LYDIA!”

Lydia spun on the spot and the two girls hugged, Ginny practically jumping to fold her legs around the taller’s waist. 

“Merlin, I miss you. It was so  boring  with all the boys. I think I lost some estrogen.”

“Estrogen?”

“Estrogen?”

George and Fred were ignored, but Lydia turned back to them to grin. 

“Have you seen the light orbs?” George isn’t sure why he said it, considering they weren’t all that interesting, but Lydia seems to think so. 

“Light-?” She looked upward, and her mouth fell open. 

Spinning on one of her heels to get a full view, she let out a silent breath of awe. 

“Woah.”

In the distance, George heard his mum yell at them to get on the train before it left, but he ignored her. The sight of Lydia with a wonder so childlike was far more appealing. He would quit school right now, if he could see it everyday. 

“Ah, c’mon!” Lydia whispered, failing to catch one of the floating lights. 

Fred was laughing at his side. “You look silly, Princess.”

“Piss off!” It seemed more a formality than any real annoyance, because she wasn’t even looking at them. 

Lydia jumped up again, failing to grab the light orb. 

“Lydia, love, you look like a pixie.”

Lydia swiveled to face him, a grin on her face. “Says  you .”

George pretended to be hurt. “As penance for that awful, awful, comment...you must dance with me.”

Lydia didn’t hesitate, and took his hand. 

They danced quite awfully, if Fred and Lee’s loud laughing were any indicator. 

When he spun and pulled her into his chest, she whispered, “I really did miss you.”

He barely registered spinning her out again, because something warm lit up his chest. 

Then the train’s final warning sounded, and Lydia gasped. “The train!”

Locking arms with his twin and best friend, they all sprinted to the train, laughter in their ears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Loves :) I can't think of anything that might need a trigger warning, but if you see anything please let me know.   
> So again, I feel the need to say I don’t hate Hermione. Lydia doesn’t either. They just really can’t see eye to eye, and they’re at the age they can’t put aside their differences yet. But one day they’ll easily take over the world so don’t worry. There’s hope.   
> Umm I hope George’s POV was good. I had a little trouble channeling him, but that’s a new plot point! So yeah!
> 
> words: 3255
> 
> Next Week: Lydia returns to school, where an announcement is made


	3. Monotonous Mondays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Neville stumbled out of the classroom, still looking just the shade of an eggshell, she looped her arm through his and guided them to Gryffindor Tower.  
> “So,” she says, trying to take his mind off his obvious fear, “What do you think about that announcement?”  
> “Scares the pants off me, but what doesn’t?”  
> “I’ll be honest, it scares me too. Why they would let children even watch it is beyond me…”  
> “You’re not interested either, then?”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -  
> Lydia and Neville spend a boring Monday as their boring selves. After all, boring never lasts long around Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a fist fight. Let me know if any other trigger warnings are needed :)
> 
> Translations:  
> Salut, puis-je m'asseoir? = Hi, can I sit down?
> 
> Élodie, range ton livre. Il y a une gentille fille. = Élodie,put your book away. There is a nice girl.
> 
> Salut, je suis Élodie Babineux. C’est ma cousine, Nicoline. = Hi, I'm Élodie Babineux. This is my cousin, Nicoline.
> 
> Enchanteé. Je suis Lydia. = Nice to meet you. I'm Lydia.
> 
> Est-ce toujours bruyant? = Is it always noisy?
> 
> Mais je connais un endroit calme. = But I know a quiet place.
> 
> Sommes-nous autorisés à partir? = Are we allowed to leave?
> 
> Si vous ne vous faites pas prendre. = If you don't get caught.
> 
> Nous suivrons. = We will follow.
> 
> The song is Oh Darlin' by the Backstreet Boys

Lydia could say, with the utmost surety, she did not like Professor Moody. First of all, who was sane with the name Mad-Eye? Second, he had shown a group of fourteen year olds - and from the sounds of it, every other age group Hogwarts held as well, including eleven year olds - curses that not only killed, could torture a person beyond pain, and perhaps the worst, one could even be used to control them as if they were a puppet on invisible strings. Oh, and then he had used the third curse on - does she really have to mention it again? - fourteen year olds!

She had wanted to stay behind and ask a few questions, maybe pull out her pocket knife, the usual sort of thing, when she noticed Neville struggle to stand, shaking like a fucking tree branch during a tornado.

Professor Moody shooed her out - git - and called Neville to stay, so of course Lydia eavesdropped. What she heard wasn’t...bad persay, but it made her stomach feel weird. Something felt off. 

When Neville stumbled out of the classroom, still looking just the shade of an eggshell, she looped her arm through his and guided them to Gryffindor Tower.

“So,” she says, trying to take his mind off his obvious fear, “What do you think about that announcement?”

His voice is trembling, but he doesn’t stutter. “Scares the pants off me, but what doesn’t?”

“I’ll be honest, it scares me too. Why they would let children even watch it is beyond me…”

“You’re not interested either, then?”

“No, and thank god you’re not.”

Neville smiles, and she swears he let out a breath of relief. “I wager you could win, though.”

“Yeah, probably. But I bet they’d take away my knives, in the name of fair or something else ridiculous, so maybe not.”

He chuckles, and she’s glad to see some color return to his face.

“So what did Moody give you?”

Neville holds it out for her to see, and she has to nudge him out of the way before he steps in a trick step. “Book on Meditteranean plants and their magical properties. It looks pretty interesting.”

She hums, and as they come to the Fat Lady’s portrait, she calls out, “Apes, please.”

The portrait swings open, and they head to the couch furthest from the fire. It’s one they rarely use, but it keeps them from view of anyone in the common room, which is what Neville needs right now.

She flicks her wand at the record player one of the Muggleborn upper years had brought in that year, and music began to fill the room. Neville knew it was a group called The Beach Boys, but only because Mrs. Creevey was slightly obsessed and he’d asked Colin what the noises coming from his house were. The noise was calming.

_ Oh ho darling _

_ Now that I’ve found you _

_ It’s like a missing piece of puzzle has appeared _

“Alright, Nev, do you want to do something, or would you rather read your book?”

He sends her a sheepish expression, and she grins.

“Go ahead, I’ve got some geography reading to do.”

“But we don’t learn geography.”

“Correction, the rest of y’all don’t learn geography.  _ I _ , however, am earning my Muggle education alongside my magical, and thus need to study.”

He blinks at her a moment, then says, “How are you still top of our year? I’ve only got the one course of curriculum and I’m failing.”

“Oh hush,” she chides, heaving her world geography textbook and a pad of notebook paper from her bag, “If it weren’t for Snape and his ridiculous teaching style you’d be much better. I tell you, if it was less stressful you’d be thriving.”

Neville tunes her out, as he always does when she starts ranting about this subject.

Finally though, after an hour of them simply sitting together reading, Neville nudges her.

_ To love and be loved is so inspiring _

“Hm?”

_ Love like just like the moonlight glowing _

“Lydia, why are you always so vehement about defending me?”

She looks up with a soft smile, her eyes lighting with a passionate spark she can’t ever hide. “Neville, I would make God bleed for you.”

_ Lying with you here in the night _

Thinking that wasn’t ominous  _ at all _ , Neville lays his head on her knees and delves back into the world of magical fungi. Gillyweed is interesting.

_ Darling now hold me, hold me tight. _

* * *

Lydia had been on her way to Madam Pomfrey’s infirmary for their weekly gossip tea when she heard a thud. 

Tiptoeing into the corridor it came from, she felt anger grip her lungs. (And wasn’t that a weird sensation!)

There was a small child on the floor, two upper years sticking their belongings on the ceiling. 

Before she could stop herself, a yell was pushed from her throat. 

“Hey! Pick on someone with your own intelligence, she’s too smart for you asshats!”

They turned to glare at her, and she glared right back. 

Were they twice her size? Yes. Would she still rip them a new one? Absolutely. 

“Want to table this to the courtyard, little girl?”

The bloke who’d said it was a Hufflepuff, oddly enough. Cedric would be disappointed.

She tilted her head. “Don’t need to, I'll do it right here.”

Lydia jumped, bringing one fist under his chin and the other over top of his head. 

He let out a yelp, and she kicked his knees for good measure. 

The girl who had been with him, a Ravenclaw, frowned and pointed her wand at Lydia. 

Lydia kicked the wand from her hand, then cast her one jinx. “ _ Aures Porrum! _ ” She called, and leeks instantly sprouted from the girl’s ears. 

She screamed in horror, and ran down the corridor. 

Lydia, satisfied, turned to the shaking girl. She bent down, and noticed she didn’t have a house tie. 

“Hey, where’s your tie?”

A trembling finger pointed at the staircase, which was now moving. A red and gold tie hung from the handrail. 

Lydia sighed and turned back to the kid. “My name is Lydia, what’s yours?”

“Uh-uh-I’m Natalie.”

Lydia smiled. “Nice to meet you, Natalie. Here, let me help you up.”

Natalie took her hand with a surprising strength, and Lydia pulled her to her feet. 

“Alright, let’s see if we can get your stuff back...Do you know the summoning charm yet?”

“No, Ma’am. Professor Flitwick says we won’t learn that until fourth year.”

“Alright, well I’m teaching you it early, how’s that sound?”

Natalie flashed a smile, and oh boy those teeth were bloody. “That sounds really good.”

Lydia held her wand out, and first summoned Natalie’s wand. “ _ Accio  _ Natalie’s wand.”

An acacia wand came soaring and hit her in the face. Natalie giggled and caught it before it hit the floor. 

Lydia shook her head, and then bent to Natalie’s level. 

“Okay, pick what you wanna summon.”

Natalie looked around, then her face lit up. “My ele-friend!”

“Your...ele-friend?”

“Yeah, that’s why they took my stuff. Ele-friend is childish.”

Lydia shook her head, ignoring the fact that she had no fucking clue what an ele-friend was. “Nah, I doubt it. Okay, think of your ele-friend. Have an image in your mind.”

Natalie’s face scrunched up cutely. “Okay, got it.”

“Good. Now keep that in your mind. You’re gonna move your wand in an arch. Think a rainbow shape.”

“Like an upside down u?”

“Kinda! But longer. More like an upside down smile.”

“...Okay, I think I got it.”

“Good! Now when you cast, you’re gonna say accio and add your item at the end. Ah, as in apple, ch as in cat, and io as in Cheerios. Can you say it for me?”

“Ah-ch-io. Accio.”

“Good, you’re doing great, Nat. Now put it all together, and remember your image!”

Natalie took a breath, closed her eyes, and shouted, “ _ Accio Ele-friend!” _

A fluffy stuffed elephant toy came soaring towards them, and Natalie caught it in glee. 

“I did it! Did ya see, Lydia? I did it!”

Lydia laughed in delight, and high fived Natalie. “You did! Now, think you can help me summon the rest of your stuff?”

Twenty minutes passed before Natalie’s rucksack was packed up again, and Lydia slung it over her own shoulder. 

“Alright, c’mon kiddie. Let’s go see Madam Pomfrey.”

“What, why?”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you holding your left foot in the air and the blood in your teeth. You’re not subtle.”

Natalie pouted. 

“Would you like a piggyback?”

“I would.”

Lydia sighed and bent over. “This is a very special privilege, you know. No one else is allowed my piggybacks.”

“I guess I'm just your favorite.”

“Yeah, guess so, kid.” Lydia was startled to find she meant it. What right did a little kid with blood in her teeth and something called an ele-friend have to her heart?

Madam Pomfrey was smiling at her. Lydia didn’t like it. 

“What’s the smug look for?”

“Oh, I’m just wondering something.”

Lydia raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Yes?”

“Why were you nice to her? Word around the castle is you aren’t kind.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I know exactly how big a gossip you are, but I’m surprised with you! Listening to teenager gossip? Shame, Madam Pomfrey.”

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and turned to peek into the loo Natalie was brushing her teeth in. “Need help, Miss McDonald?”

“Nuh uh! I’ve almost got it! My teeth are pink now!”   
Sighing, Madam Pomfrey faced Lydia again. “As you were deflecting?”

“I’m not  _ mean _ , I just don’t try overly hard to be kind. If someone pisses me off, I’ll take care of it.”

“You also don’t go out of your way to help people.”

Lydia twisted her mouth a few times, finally relaxing with a sigh. “I don’t. But...Natalie needed help, and maybe I want to be the kinda person that helps.”

“Why the sudden desire?”

“Nice people are happy. I want to be nice, to be happy.” With most people Lydia would have avoided the question, maybe given a half-truth. But this was Madam Pomfrey, Lydia’s sort of mother figure - Lydia could tell her anything.

Madam Pomfrey reached a hand to squeeze her shoulder. “Oh, my sweet.”

Lydia sighed and looked away in embarrassment, but Madam Pomfrey nudged her chin with her thumb.

“Oh, my sweet Lydia. You don’t need to build up enough kind deeds to earn happiness, it’s a thing you make for yourself.”

“Is there a class for that? Because I don’t know how.”

“Oh, my sweet.” Madam Pomfrey repeated it, looking sad and smiling at the same time.

Natalie came out with a grin to show her teeth. “Look! All white.”

Lydia didn’t hold in her snort, and beckoned Natalie for a hug. Maybe she wasn’t naturally kind or happy, but she could learn.

* * *

Lydia’s fifteenth birthday was a boring one, at least compared to the last few since meeting her friends. Nothing could compare to not knowing your own birthday because it was ignored, but this birthday was still boring. 

The morning of 30th October Lydia was shaken awake by Ginny, who dragged her out onto the grounds. There, Neville, Luna, and the entire Quidditch team, save Harry and Oliver, stood waiting.

Natalie came hurtling up to her, unrestrained excitement bursting out of her. “Lydia! I made you a present with Luna’s help. It’s a painting of you taking down those mean bullies!”

“Or the aftermath, it looks like.”

It was a nice painting, surprisingly well done. Lydia’s face was in the foreground, getting smacked in the face by Natalie’s wand, while the girl herself was cheering in the background. The blood on her face was surprisingly realistic. Up in the top left corner, Natalie’s attackers were out cold, various painted injuries littering their bodies.

Lydia felt strangely warm.

“Thank you, Nat. I’ll put this right on my nightstand, I promise.”

“Luna helped with most of it, but she let me do all the blood.”

Lydia looked up at Luna, who was grinning. “Well, thank you both.”

She shivered as a particularly strong burst of wind hit. “What are we doing out here by the way? It isn’t even fully light out.”

Fred came forward and wrapped his cloak around her, frowning at the sight of her pyjamas. “Ginny was supposed to let you get dressed warmly, first!”

Ginny looked sheepish, but didn’t apologize.

Katie quickly stepped forward. “You’re going flying today.”

Lydia felt both fear and excitement. Although she hadn’t done badly in her flying lessons as a first year, she preferred to be on the ground rather than in the sky, where she was an easy target. Instincts die hard.

Lydia shrugged, and said, “Alright. Someone watch Natalie.”

Her protective glare came naturally, and Ginny immediately volunteered.

Pouting slightly, Luna went to Lee’s broom with him so she could have a partner as well.

Both twins grabbed her arm, then glared at each other. Lydia had a solution.

“Peabrains!” She yelled, stopping their arguing, “Are you Ron and Hermione? I have an idea.”

“Is it stupidly dangerous?” Angelina asked.

“Because those are usually Harry’s forte,” Neville added.

Lydia beamed. “It’s more like insane. To be stupid you have to have brains. Luckily, I left mine in the dorm today.”

Before anyone could stop her, she got on the broom George was straddling. She nudged him forward towards the edge, slid behind him, then pulled Fred behind her.

Fred cackled, then they pushed off from the ground to the annoyed yells of their friends.

Once they’d steadied themselves close to thirty feet above ground, Fred leaned over her shoulder. “Never thought you’d be the one to be so reckless, Princess.”

She grinned at him. “I told you, I left my brains in the dorm this morning. Besides, a little stupidity is fun sometimes.”

“Best way to start off the year,” George said, “It’s more fun being stupid, anyway.”

Lydia let her legs dangle, the twins guiding the broom through exhilarating loops and curves.

Eventually though, they noticed lights begin to flicker on in the castle’s windows, and looking up at the sky, it was bright and sunny.

“Time to go in, boys. Don’t want Minnie catching us.”

The both looked at her, the broom lurching as George lost focus.

“GEORGE PAY ATTENTION WE’RE FALLING!”

They all went tumbling into the grass, ending up with dirt streaks on their faces.

Lydia groaned. “You bloody idiot.”

The twins were grinning, though.

“You called her Minnie.”

Lydia quickly realized her mistake.

“N-No, I didn’t!”

“You did,” they sang, “You called her Minnie! We’re rubbing off on you!”

She groaned, head thudding against the ground.

That night the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrived. Lydia decided to mingle, knowing a little French herself.

She stood from her table and approached the Ravenclaw’s, where the Beauxbatons were.

A girl with brown hair was reading something, a girl with blonde hair across from her was swirling her drink trying to distract the former.

Lydia waved at the brunette, catching her attention. “Salut, puis-je m'asseoir?”

The blonde smiled and nodded, nudging the brunette. “Élodie, range ton livre. Il y a une gentille fille.”

The brunette, Élodie apparently, glanced up at Lydia. “Salut, je suis Élodie Babineux. C’est ma cousine, Nicoline.”

Lydia smiled. “Enchanteé. Je suis Lydia.”

Élodie glanced back to her book, then around the loud Great Hall. “Est-ce toujours bruyant?”

“Oui,” Lydia laughed, “Mais je connais un endroit calme.”

Nicoline looked around. “Sommes-nous autorisés à partir?”

“Si vous ne vous faites pas prendre.”

Nicoline looked around once more, then grabbed for Élodie’s hand, looking to Lydia. “Nous suivrons.”

* * *

Poppy supposes she should be grateful. Lydia hadn’t needed to visit her infirmary more than for their regular gossip Sunday’s at all this term. It was so seldom she came in, that Poppy began to miss her. 

Even still, when the second week of November comes round and Lydia walks in, Poppy sighs. 

“Alright, you know the drill. Symptoms?”

Lydia winces. “My head is fucking killing me, and has been for the past three days. I swear, my ears are ringing.”

Poppy frowns, and turns Lydia's head to look at her ears. 

“Have you been wearing your specs?”

Lydia nodded, Poppy stilling her chin so she could take the frames off. 

At Lydia’s distressed whine, Poppy flicked her wand, the lights immediately dimming. 

“Your specs are in nearly perfect shape… Have you been behaving any differently?”

“No. But I have been outside more often. Mainly in trees, because it’s quiet there.”

Poppy hummed. “Have you been around students more than usual?”

“I don’t think so. At least, not besides during meals.”

“I think that might be the problem. Your sensory difficulties might be affected by all that’s going on this year. Especially with the flashing of the cameras.” She paused, and a look so annoyed came over her face that Lydia shrunk back. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this!”

Poppy handed back Lydia’s glasses, and walked over to her potion cupboard. 

“This will help the headache, and you’ll sit here until it kicks in.”

And so things went, for two weeks straight. Every other day, Lydia came in just after supper, and each time, Poppy gave her a potion. 

Eventually, however, Poppy knew it had to stop. Lydia couldn’t become reliant on the potions, it would be too dangerous. 

“Lydia, we’re going to take a different course of treatment today. The constant potions are awful for you. Come, sit either in the bed or at my desk.”

Lydia tiptoed to the neon green beanbag Poppy always kept in her office, and sat down gingerly, wincing. 

“What are you gonna do?”

Poppy smiled. “Something my wife always swears works - solitaire.”

“Solitaire.”

“Solitaire! Come now, shuffle these for me.” Poppy dropped the deck into Lydia’s lap, and found a second beanbag, this one neon pink, to drag in front of Lydia. She sat, smoothing her robe out.

Lydia dealt out the cards, and the game began.

So the next several days, and weeks, passed. Lydia’s aches did not go away, but she knew how to beat Poppy in solitaire now, so it was a win.

“Madam Pomfrey, did you hear?” Lydia asked, running into the office with a bag of ice sticking atop her head.

“Hear what? And why on earth is that stuck to your head?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Freddie’s a worrywart, and when I mentioned my head hurt during lunch he stuck this to my head. Really powerful sticking charm. Anyway, Nicoline says there’s something going on between Hagrid and Madame Maxime! Have you heard anything?”

Poppy smiled and thus began their weekly gossip. She did so love this child. If only she could tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves! Okay, I have some notes about this chapter:  
> 1\. Genuinely cannot remember if Harry’s given Gillyweed by Dobby in the movies and by Neville in the books, or if it’s the other way round, but for this series Neville gives it to him. I’m way too tired to look in the boxes of my stuff to find the books and check. (My room is actually getting a wall and ceiling put in, yay! But that means I have no possessions except my phone lol)  
> 2\. Natalie is actually a character! You can find her on the HP wiki under Natalie McDonald, and I suggest you read it. She was actually given the name because of a little girl in real life. Anyway, Natalie will be fleshed out into a full character as we continue with the series.  
> 3\. I’ve been a French student for two years, and still can barely form a full sentence, so Google translate it was, alas. When I know French a little more confidently I’ll come back and fix any mistakes, but please bear with me. 
> 
> words: 3131
> 
> Next Week: As with every other Halloween, shit goes down.


	4. She Doesn’t Fret (Yes She Does)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry shrieked like a mandrake, and Lydia quickly sent a spell to silence him.  
> “You. You’re a girl.”  
> She raised her eyebrow at the log-turned-Sirius-Black. “And you’re not a dog anymore. I’m glad we’ve established that.”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Lydia is honestly really annoyed with the majority of the magical world right now. Except Natalie McDonald - that kid is adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure about an TW, but please let me know if you think there needs to be any! 
> 
> Tumblr: wizardywilting

As with every other Halloween, really the day must be cursed, things go to shit. Why Dumbledore thought it would be a good night to unveil the Goblet of Fire, especially with Hogwarts’ track record, Lydia has no idea. 

She’s sitting in her usual spot between the twins, Luna’s spot by Lee sadly empty, when Cedric’s name is called. 

She claps as he stands, her heart thudding relentlessly in her chest. Across from her, Neville links their ankles. 

“He’ll be a good champion for us. I bet he’ll win.”

She gives Neville a smile, but she’s sure it looks forced. 

Just when the goblet starts to die down, and Lydia’s looking forward to her bed, it flares with fire again. 

Lydia looks to Professor Flitwick, and she can tell by the way his smile freezes on his face that he’s confused too. 

“HARRY POTTER!” 

Lydia can tell, even if she hadn’t already known Harry wouldn’t enter, that he hadn’t done it. His face is blank with shock, but his eyes are shining with fear. His hands are shaking. 

She leans over George and hisses, “Colin! Snap a photo of Harry!”

Colin does so without question, and it’s only after he confirms it has been saved that he asks, “Why did you have me do that? I thought you said I need to ask before I take photos.”

“I did but… Look at his face. That photo might prove he never wanted this. And I’ve got a feeling people will blame him.”

George cocks his head. “What do you mean, why wouldn't he want to enter?”

“How did he, anyway?” Lee adds. 

Ginny rolls her eyes. “Boys are thick.”

Lydia laughs. “They can be, yes.” Turning to the rest of their group, “Harry wouldn’t do this willingly. He’s got money, he’s got fame, we all know he gets into enough adventure. And I say again, look at his face!”

He’s walking now, but barely. It looks like he’s not even aware of anything, as if each step is an effort. 

She really hopes the photo is enough to keep people off his back. 

It isn’t. She had been naive to think a simple photograph would be enough to convince the idiots of the magical world that a teenage boy doesn’t want to risk his life. 

That does beg the question, why are magical people so determined to risk their lives? Is it a universal thing?

Nevertheless, in the past three weeks Lydia had been exhausting her wand with various jinxes and hexes to those who were blatantly mean to Harry. 

Was it petty? Absolutely. Had she gotten caught yet? Of course not, who did you take her for, Parkinson?

It was easy to pretend she was one of Harry’s supporters, only an acquaintance. As he walked through the halls, she stayed back approximately seven paces, her wand hidden up a sleeve and sending spells each way. 

And because Ron was currently being a bad friend, Lydia was able to sit with Harry in the empty common room, studying. 

It was as she progressed into her third essay of the night that a log shaped like a face moved. 

Harry was ranting, so she devoted half her attention to him and the other half to the fire. 

“Why does he think I'd ever want this? It’s not like I-”

The log spoke. “Sounds like a bad friend to me.”

Harry shrieked like a mandrake, and Lydia quickly sent a spell to silence him. 

“You. You’re a girl.”

She raised her eyebrow at the log-turned-Sirius-Black. “And you’re not a dog anymore. I’m glad we’ve established that.”

Harry was gesturing angrily at her and she snickered. “Sorry, what’s that? I can’t hear you.”

Sirius Black laughed, and it sounded like a bark. “I like you, you’re funny.”

Lydia flicked her wand again, and suddenly Harry was whisper shouting at her. “-I swear I will- oh, my voice is back. Thanks.”

“You’ll do what, exactly?”

He paled a little at her smile, and stepped backwards. “I’ll uh, I got nothing. Oh, look, Sirius! Let’s shift focus to him.”

Sirius laughed again, beckoning both teens towards him.

Lydia waved at him. “Hi, Mr. Black.”

He squinted at her, then looked to Harry. “So did you tell her or..?”

“She’s scary, she told me, and I just figured she found out on her own.”

Lydia grinned. “I taught you so well.”

Sirius was still blinking like an idiot, so Harry said, “This is Lydia McBrien, Lydia that’s my godfather.”

Something seemed to click. “So you’re the kid that sent me a letter with threats.”

“Yeah! I’m the girl that named you Monte Crispo.”

Sirius nodded. “Right, it’s hard to distinguish between memories I’ve had as a dog. Weird name, by the way.”

“Well you didn’t seem to mind! Anyway, don’t mind me. I’m just studying, and the girls in my dorm are rude when I study too much, so I’m down here.” Under her breath she muttered, “They should try studying two curriculums, then we’ll talk about who’s the geek.”

As she turned her attention back to the Napoleonic War, she vaguely heard Sirius talking about dragons. It was only when she heard her own name that she tuned back into their conversation.

“Lydia reckons I was entered as a threat.”

“I doubt it’s a threat so much as an attempt to kill you without doing any real work.”

Lydia interjected, “I only think it’s a threat, because if they wanted him dead they could have done it at any time in the past two months. What’s the sense in draining themselves with whatever magic they did to fool the goblet when they could have just poisoned Harry at the feast? Or killed him while he was at the station? Probably could have killed him at any point between now and September. Point is, usually people send you a threat before they actually kill you. Makes you scared, jumpy, more likely to slip up and leave yourself susceptible to danger.”

“But Karkaroff didn’t arrive until what, Halloween?”

“I see your theory about Karkaroff, but what if it’s someone closer to home?”

Harry stared at her in alarm. “If someone wanted kill me they’d have done it by now”

First of all, you’re terribly hard to kill, Harry,” Lydia sighed, shifting to sit more directly in front of the fire, “Secondly, think about this. There’s a couple hundred more students than normal, and everyone thinks the kids underage are safe, because why would Dumbledore’s magic ever be faulty? There’s a fourteen year old kid, he looks pretty defenseless, especially now that he’s been lulled into a false sense of security. He probably thinks he’s safe, with the age spell and loads more people that could protect him if Voldemort gets inside Hogwarts again. This would be the perfect time to strike - lots of people to blame, a tournament that could be found at fault, and an old man’s magic coincidentally not working. I’m just saying, if someone’s been after you for awhile and hasn’t succeeded...now’s the time.”

Sirius chuckled nervously. “You’re not a Slytherin are you?”

“No, I just...watch a lot of crime films.” Not a complete lie, she’d once seen thirty minutes of  _ Private Eye _ , a television program popular in the States.

* * *

“Am I annoying you?” Natalie was following Colin around the halls as he searched for a subject to photograph, and he could honestly understand why Harry hated hearing him talk so much when he was eleven. He really hoped that being thirteen now meant he’d gotten the babbling under control.

He turned and snapped a photo of one of the windows. “No, of course not. Why do you ask that?”

Natalie raised onto her tip toes and wrung her hands. “Well…”

Colin stopped pacing to face Natalie properly. “Are they being mean again?”

“Who’s they? I don’t know anyone named They. What a weird name,They-”

“Aria, is someone bullying you?” Colin had let go of his camera so it was dangling off his neck. “You can tell me. I’m an outcast too, you know.”

“I think Miss Lydia would be angry if she heard you say that.”

That was another thing. Natalie called anyone that wasn’t Colin by honorifics. It drove Lydia up the wall.

“She’d also be angry if someone was bullying you. Fess up.”

Aria sighed and flopped onto a space between the bridge’s arch where there was a bench. Colin grabbed her elbow so she didn’t do something stupid like fall through. That had to be a safety hazard, right? Was there no safety ins[ector for Hogwarts?

“Okay, so people are still being mean. But don’t tell Miss Lydia!”

Colin sighed and sat in front of her on the floor. “Aria, you know I can’t keep this from her. You should tell Professor McGonagall.”

“No way. It’s my fault anyway, I shouldn't have brought my ele-friend.”

“Everyone needs a friend sometimes, it’s a good thing you’ve got ele-friend.”

“Not if it makes me get made fun of.”

Colin sighed. “Who is it now? I thought those upper years left you alone.”

“They do! It’s some different people now. They’re first years.”

“Who?” Colin was a little surprised at the anger he felt towards the ones that were hurting Natalie. It wasn’t like him to be quick to anger. Thenaain, it wasn’t like him to let anyone distract from his photography. Then again, Natalie seemed to be the only exception.

“I don’t know, they’re a Slytherin and a Gryffindor.”

“Weird match.”

“I guess.”

He sighed. “Are you sure you don’t know any names?”

“Promise you won’t tell Lydia?”

“Promise.” He would definitely tell Ginny, though. And that might be worse.

“Okay… The Gryffindor’s name is something Peakes. I think the Slytherin is his older brother.”

Colin nodded, and said, “I think Dennis knows a bloke named Peakes. I’ll see you later, I gotta-” And then he sprinted off, hearing Natalie yell at him. 

It seems like Ginny was going to get to try out that new boils curse she’d just learnt after all.

* * *

It was very hard being a Triwizard contestant. Well, that was kind of a lie, and Cedric didn’t lie. Unless it was to tell his dad he was excited for a Ministry job, that is. 

There were many upsides to being a Triwizard contestant:

-Get out of lessons for things like interviews and certain traditions. 

-People fawn over you. 

-Your dad is proud. 

-You have exciting writing material.

-A fun competition. 

-Chance to make friends.

-Your girlfriend cheers you on. 

-No exams. 

There were downsides too, of course. 

-There’s barely any time for friends. 

-No alone time. 

-Mum cries whenever she sees you, you’re not sure if she’s proud or scared. 

-There’s potential for trauma, but hey, it’s writing material. 

-You could die or be seriously injured. You’re trying not to think about that. 

-The other Hogwarts champion was entered without their own free will and now might be getting bullied and you feel overwhelmed with the guilt. 

-People fawn all over you. 

Cedric particularly hated the ‘barely any time for friends’ part. He’d not seen any of his friends besides Felix, Cho, and Marilyn since crowds began following him around, and he was really starting to miss the ducklings. 

“What’s with the frown, pretty boy?”

Felix nudged Marilyn. “Cut ‘im some slack, Lyn. He’s got so much to worry about. His adoring fans, for example.”

Cedric shoved Felix. “Ah shut your big mouth. You know I don’t care about that.”

Marilyn raised her eyebrows in that way of hers that always made him spill embarrassing truths. “What’s the frown about, then?”

“I miss my ducklings.”

Felix snorted. “You mean the kids you basically adopted?”

Cedric nodded, not even caring about the mocking tone. “Yes! I miss them very much.”

Marilyn grinned. “Well, here’s your chance! Lydia is with the Weasleys over by that tree.”

Cedric scanned the courtyard, and he waved his arm in the air. “DUCKLINGS!”

Ginny spun around, before tapping Lydia’s shoulder insistently. 

Lydia turned too, and grinned. She grabbed onto Ginny’s arm, and the two girls sprinted to Cedric. 

Ginny jumped onto his back, making him fall to his knees. 

“Cedric, Cedric, Cedric!”

“Hey, Firecracker. Miss me?”

She slugged his arm. “Don’t get smart with me, your job is to be pretty. It’s Lydia’s job to be smart.”

When Cedric glanced up at Lydia the girl was smirking. 

“Having fun without us, Mother Goose?”

He snorted and shook his head. “I’d hug you, but I’m kind of being pinned to the ground.”

Lydia laughed and swung Ginny into her own arms, laughing as the girl kicked her feet. 

Marilyn walked closer and beamed. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve met properly.”

Lydia smiled. “Hey, I’m Lydia McBrien.”

“Marilyn Arthur. This speckled bloke behind me is Felix Brunt.”

The Weasley twins had jogged over, and they helped Ginny to her feet, letting her lean against George’s chest. 

George nodded at the three Hufflepuffs. “Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy’s friends.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and leaned into Fred’s chest. ”Cedric, I hear you’re pretty damn popular now. How’s it treating you?”

“I used to think your obsession with ‘stay under the radar’ was silly, but I get it now. I really do.”

Lydia smirked. “Told you. Now, tell me about that first task. Want help?”

“That’s cheating!”

Lydia looked to Marilyn. “He always like this?”

She laughed. “Every Hufflepuff is! But yes.”

Cedric rolled his eyes, and tugged gently on Lydia’s sleeve. “You, tell me about life. I miss my ducklings.”

Ginny raised her hand. “Lydia stayed at the Burrow this summer! She didn’t go to the Cup with us though… But we got a dog, and Mum wouldn’t let us keep it, and then Colin took Chio home.”

“Chio?”

“The dog. Luna even came over for a week, and it was super fun! I’m still finding glitter in my trunk.”

George snorted. “I thought Mum was going to pop a blood vessel when she saw your bed.”

“I stand by what I said, purple glitter jazzes up my comforter.”

Marilyn snorted. 

“Ginny covered everything, honestly,” Lydia said, looping Fred’s arms around her shoulders and playing with his fingers. “I spent time in the States, spent a month at the Burrow, then went home for the remaining time before school.”

Fred frowned. “Actually, you never did tell us why you stopped writing after you went home.”

Lydia groaned. “Yeah, that was on purpose. The truth is, my Mom and I got into a fight and she took away all my pens and paper. All I could do was sit and play with Stoner. And I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed.”

“Why were you embarrassed?”

“Because it was a stupid fight. I got upset that she had picked up another part time job. Anyway, how are you Cedric? Besides the obvious.”

And so the subject was changed. 

But Cedric’s Mother Goose instincts told him that something else had happened. He would have to talk to her later. 

* * *

Percy’s trivia nights had not gone away when the former Head Boy had. It surprised Lydia, but Professor McGonagall had appointed Angelina to organize them and the girl had really taken it seriously.

“Lydia, have you told Natalie about tonight?”

Lydia looked over to where Neville and Ginny were playing some game with their hands, then back to Angelina. “Yeah, she’ll be here. Who all’s coming?”

“Well, we’ve got most of your year - Harry and Ron still aren’t talking, and Ron thinks Harry’s coming so he’s refused to leave his dorm. But Harry thinks the same, so he’s somewhere with Hagrid. But the rest of your year’ll be here. Elora, she’s a seventh year, convinced Kenneth to come - he’s a sixth year. The whole Quidditch team will be here, or I’ll hex them-”

“I don’t think the twins are planning a prank, by the way.”

“Oh thank Morgana. Keep it that way, will you? Katie managed to convince Cormac not to come, so don’t worry about that arrogant git. Ginny’s bringing her dormmates, Bonnie and Freya. Romilda is coming too, she’s a first year.”

Lydia hummed. “So, what's the category for tonight?”

Angelina laughed. “I’m distracted, not stupid. You don’t get to know until it starts.”

“But I’m impatient!”

“Wait twenty minutes, love.”

“Alright, that’s five points for the third years! Who can tell me what a Zouwu’s rating is?”

Someone’s wand binged. 

Scanning the room, Angelina’s eyes lit up. “Okay, sixth years, what’s your answer?”

“Four x!” Kenneth shouted.

Angelina winced. “No, I’m sorry. Who wants to steal? Fourth years, you go!”   
Lydia called out, “Triple x!”

Angelina grinned and tossed an acid pop her way. “Correct! Another five points for the fourth years.”

Fay leaned around the sofa’s back to high five Lydia. 

“Nice one, Lydia!”

As Angelina called the next question out, Lydia noticed Natalie had fallen asleep in the corner next to Colin, who was struggling underneath her. 

She snuck away from the group, and made her way to them. 

Kneeling, she rested a hand against the girl’s cheek. “She feels warm. Has she said anything about a cold to you?”

Colin shook his head. “No, but she did tell me something. I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“You can tell me later. I think we need to take her to Madam Pomfrey.”

He frowned. “You don’t think it’s serious, do you?”

She smirked slightly, thinking of Monte. “No, I hope not. It’s a precaution. If you don’t take care of these things it can go awry. Can you get an arm under hers?”

Colin slid out from under Natalie as Lydia lifted her a few inches, clumsily placing a hand around her back and under her armpit. Lydia did the same on Natalie’s other side. 

Kicking the portrait gently with her heel, Lydia stepped out of the common room. 

The Fat Lady was asleep, as it was late. Curfew was in only twenty minutes, so they’d have to hurry. 

“Lydia, how are we gonna get down six floors?”

Lydia snorted. “Prayer, Colin. I’m personally praying to Yoshi.”

Colin laughed, but immediately clamped his mouth shut when Natalie squirmed. 

By the time they got to the hospital wing it was dark in the corridors and Natalie’s face had broken into sweats. 

Lydia shifted some of Natalie’s weight onto Colin, struggled with the door handle, and they all stumbled through. 

Colin crashed into a bed’s nightstand, knocking a lamp over and shattering it. 

“Uh oh.”

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office at the noise, and simply sighed when she saw Lydia. 

“What on earth happened now? I thought you were just at the trivia night!”

Lydia shifted so Natalie was in clear sight. “We had a problem.”

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened in worry, and she immediately bustled over to take Natalie from the two. 

“What happened?”

Lydia glanced at Colin. 

“Well, she told me that she was too hot by the fire, so we loved to the corner where it was cooler. She went from mildly hot to sweating like a pig in just a few minutes! She said she was tired, so I let her lie down in my lap. Then she fell asleep.”

“Hm, sounds like she caught something. But this seems more than a common cold. Lydia, have you been keeping a close eye on her?”

“Yes, of course. It’s not like she leaves my side all too much.”

Colin cleared his throat nervously. “Except for those few days you spent in here. And then last Saturday when you hung out with Cedric and the twins all day.”

Lydia frowned. “Ah, shi...shucks. I forgot about that. Did anything happen?”

Colin bit his lip. “That’s the thing I wanted to talk to you about. Natalie told me people have been-”

Lydia narrowed her eyes and had to force herself to look away so she didn’t glare at Colin. He didn’t deserve that. 

“Bullies?” 

“Yeah. I promised I wouldn’t tell you, but I had my fingers crossed. If she asks, Ginny told you.”

Lydia snorted. “What did they do?”

“She didn’t say much, just that they thought she was childish for her ele-friend.”

Madam Pomfrey raised her eyebrows. “Well, this spell certainly makes sense if that’s the case.”

“What spell?” Lydia demanded. 

“Parents generally use it when their children are young, to build their immune system. It gives them a cold - nothing dangerous, just enough to make them ill long enough that it strengthens their immune system.”

Lydia’s lip curled. “So they made her ill on purpose? That’s fucking stupid.”

Madam Pomfrey’s hand came to rest on Lydia’s shoulder blades. “ _ Lydia _ . Miss McDonald needs you here, not in detention for injuring a student.”

“I’d do more than injure,” Lydia muttered, but she sat down anyway. “Can we help her?”

Madam Pomfrey winced. “No, the only way past this spell is through, I’m afraid. You’re welcome to stay until ten o’clock, then you’re off to bed.”

“But-”

“You know you need the sleep, young lady. Now, fret until ten o’clock.”

As Madam Pomfrey left, covering the snoozing Colin with a blanket, she heard a mutter. “I don’t fret.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves. How y’all doing? A few notes:  
> 1\. Cedric’s friends Marilyn and Felix can be found in the HP Wiki site, they were listed as characters. But, as with Natalie, I’m developing them for my story.  
> 2\. Poor Natalie! I really hurt her this chapter :/ Thoughts on her so far?  
> 3\. Any little scenes y’all want done? I’m thinking about something to expand on Eloise and Lydia’s short relationship, bc they’re so cute and I didn’t remember to fit that in the chapter before. 
> 
> words: 3535  
> Next Week: Lydia teaches Harry to dance, and in return he steps on her toes.


	5. A Trick, A Jinx, & A Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There you are, you’ve got it. Spin me.”  
>  “What?!”  
>  “Oh don’t look so panicked. Take my arm, there you go, and twirl me.” She spun out, and then he pulled her back. “Nice, if we hadn’t spent several hours doing this I’d say you were a natural.”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Lydia teaches Harry to dance, goes shopping, and Fred notices something odd about her. All in all, a busy few days.

A group of five girls sat in the Gryffindor fourth year dorm, all crammed onto Lydia’s bed. 

Padma and Heidi were comparing Transfiguration notes, Ginny and Luna were painting each other’s nails, and Lydia was petting her cat. 

“I was thinking-”

“When aren’t you?”

“Shush, Heidi, or I won’t ask Rosy to bring you ice cubes anymore.”

Heidi glared, picking up her cup full of ice cubes and popping one into her mouth with a loud crunch. 

Ginny winced at the noise. “What were you thinking about, Lydia?”

“Who wants to go to the Yule Ball?” 

Padma looked at her in surprise. “I thought you said it was ridiculous?”

“I said the _attention_ everyone was giving it is ridiculous. The ball itself, maybe not. So. Who’s going?”

“I’d like to go,” Luna sighed. “But Ginny and I aren’t allowed.”

“I might have a plan,” Lydia told her. Turning to Padma and Heidi, “So what about you two?”

Heidi shrugged. “My Mam sent me gold for a dress, but I’m not sure. I guess if Terry goes I’ll go, that way if it’s boring we can cause a ruckus.”

Padma snorted. “I’ll go too, if I’m asked. Want to set me up?”

Lydia shook her head. “Nah, I don’t know anyone that’ll give you a good time. Try asking Cedric, he might have some younger year Puffs.”

Luna tapped Lydia's arm. “Your plan?”

“Oh, right. I can ask Luna, and Neville can ask you, Ginny. We were talking about it yesterday in Charms. We were gonna go together, but then realized we can just switch out once we get in. Might as well break the rules for a good cause, right?”

Ginny laughed. “The twins have totally rubbed off on you.”

“Maybe I’ve rubbed off on them. I did teach Fred that exploding potion that covers you in dye.”

She paused in thought for a few moments, then said, “Should we all go shopping for dresses together?”

Ginny beamed. “Is that a question? Of course we will.”

They had to wait until the week just before the Yule Ball, but luckily when they got to _Spellbound Stylings_ , a clothing shop cheaper than Gladrag’s, there were still plenty of dresses to choose from. 

Colin decided to follow them, claiming he wanted to take photographs. 

“Woah, there’s so many sparkles!”

Padma laughed and messed up his hair with her hand. “Girls like that sort of thing. Why don’t you help me find a nice lehenga, won’t you?”

Padma led Colin off, and Lydia shrugged at Ginny, Heidi, and Luna. 

Heidi caught sight of a dark blue dress and sprinted off with a gasp of excitement, leaving them. 

Luna took hold of both their hands and headed towards the forest corner. 

Letting the Ravenclaw lead them, Ginny asked, “Lydia, what color do you want?”

“Oh, I dunno. I’ve never picked out a dress before.”

“ _Really?_ Mum always took me dress shopping when we had extra money. The village back home has got a nice dress shop for cheap.”

Lydia hummed, her eyes caught on a dress. 

She stepped forward, barely noticing the muffled voice of Luna and Ginny. Brushing her fingers against the fabric, she smiled. 

It was itchy, but not in the way that hurts. It was itchy in the way that makes you remember there’s three thousand little nerve endings in your fingertips. 

“Find something you like, dear?”

Lydia let her hand drop as she looked up at the wizard with a name tag. “Yeah, maybe. How much is it?”

“Let’s see...Tea length dress with tie sleeves...backless… It’ll be 13 Galleons and 25 Knuts.”

Lydia hit her lip. “Alright. I might be able to do that.”

He smiled. “Hey, don’t worry about the price. If you can’t afford it, we’ll negotiate. The dressing rooms are down that hall.”

She smiled back, and grabbed the dress. 

“Heidi, I’m gonna go try this on.”

Heidi grinned. “Ooh, me too! Let’s go.”

After changing, Lydia walked out into the brewing area, which had a long mirror and a few seats. 

Heidi was already there, admiring herself. 

“Like it?”

“It’s very white. Aren’t you going to spill something?”

It was the same dark blue one she’d seen, but with a panel of white across the torso. The neckline was high, almost touching her chin. 

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Besides, It’s only 10 Galleons.” Heidi turned from the mirror to look at Lydia, and gasped. “Oh Morgana! You’re so _pretty_.”

Lydia blushed, biting her lip. “Really? It’s a little more...exposed than I’m used to.”

Heidi shook her head, choppy blonde hair shaking with her. Dragging Lydia, she deposited her in front of the mirror. 

And wow. Heidi wasn’t wrong. Lydia looked pretty. 

The dress she’d picked up was orange at the very top, starting at the little fabric ties over her shoulders, and faded inch by inch to a deep red at her toes. It made her look like she was aflame. 

When she turned to see her back in the mirror, she could see her long scar through the cut of the dress. Usually she hated the sight, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate it when the dress made her feel so good. 

_SNAP. CLICK. SNAP._

Lydia turned to see Colin snapping away with his camera, and she laughed. 

“Find anything for Padma?”

He nodded. “She’s trying her...ah crap what’s it called? Her...la...hanga?”

From behind the dressing stall doors, Padma shouted, “Lehenga!”

Colin nodded. “Lehenga! That’s it!”

Padma laughed, then they heard a muttered string of curses as she tripped over something. “I’m alright!”

Heidi and Lydia shared a look. 

Luna and Ginny came tumbling out of a stall they had been sharing. 

Luna was wearing a black knee length dress, with a sheer material around the neck and poofy sleeves. There were silver stars stitched all over the dress, popping against her skin. 

Ginny had on a green dress that fell to just below her knees. It fastened with ties similar to the ones in Lydia’s dress, though it covered most of her back. A pink ribbon was tied around her waist. 

“Lydia, you look so pretty!” Ginny gasped. “Oh no, am I gay? I feel gay.”

Lydia laughed so hard she doubled over. “You can recognize beauty without wanting it.”

And _wow_ , when did she become confident? Was this dress bewitched?

Luna took hold of her and Ginny’s hands, making them dance some sort of waltz-slash-tango. 

Colin was still snapping photos. 

* * *

_Mother Hen,_

_Hi Percy! I hope your Ministry job is going well? I can’t believe you kept the tournament a secret from me! And here I thought we were friends. (Kidding of course.)_

_Ginny, Luna, Padma, Heidi, and I all went shopping for dresses to wear to the Yule Ball. I think you’ll be happy to know I’ve included a photograph of us all, so you can see what we will be wearing. Also included is a photograph of Fred, George, and I studying. I promised to make them study, but I bet you didn’t believe I would, am I right?_

_There’s something coming, something bad. I can’t explain it, but there’s a feeling in my chest that just screams it._

_You know when there’s about to be a really bad thunderstorm, and you can almost feel and smell it in the air a few days before it actually happens? It’s like that. I’ll admit, just to you, that it scares me._

_I don’t like Professor Moody much. I know he’s a very well known and (mostly) respected Auror, but I don’t think he should be a teacher. It’s like Snape - brilliant mind, but not teacher material._

_He showed us the Unforgivables in practice and even used the Imperius on students. I’m not usually a stickler for rules, but that’s got to be against one, right? Poor Neville is on the brink of a panic attack each time we go to DADA lessons after seeing the curses._

_I should probably wrap this letter up since I’ve not got anything interesting to say. I will tell you that your Christmas gift should be arriving soon. I sent it early in case we get a snow storm like I’m thinking we will._

_Anyway, I should go. George is running away from the Durmstrang students, and I should go save him before he gets mauled. I told him not to charm their hair and skin orange, but he didn’t listen._

_Lydia B. McBrien._

* * *

Lydia felt fairly relaxed after getting her dress. She was caught up and ahead on her coursework for both curriculums, had nothing to buy for Christmas gifts, and had a confirmed invitation to the Burrow. All she had to do in the following week before the Yule Ball and holiday break was spend time with her friends. 

She was spending some much needed time unwinding on a common room sofa with a sleeping Natalie and Colin on her right, Neville reading through one of his Herbology essays on the other when it happened. 

One second she was staring into the fire with half lidded eyes, the next Harry was pacing in front of her. Suddenly he plopped himself down on the floor in front of her with a groan. 

“That’s quite the hello. Nice weather we’re having.” At his glare, she added, “What’s with the despair, Lightning?”

“Lightni- okay nevermind. I’ve got to _dance._ Dance, Lydia! You think I ever had lessons? Well you’re wrong.”

She was smirking, she couldn’t help it. “Who said you’ve had lessons? Is that a pure blood thing?”

Neville pouted as he said, “Yes, it is.”

“HAH!” 

“Oh shut up, Lydia.”

She grinned at Neville, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“So Harry, who’s your date?”

He groaned again. “Who will want to be my date when I can’t dance?”

“Dancing isn’t in my skill set either, you know.”

He just groaned again. 

Sighing, she offered, “What if I practice with you?”

“I thought you’d never had lessons.”

“Not the kind you’re thinking of.” To herself she muttered, “A threat is a good teacher.”

He shrugged and nodded. “Alright, Ill take the bait. Teach me, Professor McBrien.”

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “God, if I ever become a teacher I’m stealing someone’s surname. I hate mine. Anyway, meet me here tonight.”

“You’re practicing in the open?” Oh, is that Hermione sounding disappointed? Surprising. 

“I never said that, Hermione. I never said we’d stay here.”

“But what about my date? I’ve got no one!”

“Oh, you two are girls!” Ron gasped, looking like a light had gone off in his head. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron, and Lydia fingered her wand. 

“Glad you’ve noticed the breasts, otherwise I’d worry you needed Harry’s glasses.”

Hermione sputtered, and Neville choked on his spit. 

Ron, oblivious as ever, didn’t notice the grave he was digging. “Well you two can just go with me and Harry! Hermione with me and - w-why’ve you got your wand out? Oh, ow it’s pointed-AH!”

Hermione began smacking his head with a stray pillow, and Lydia took the opportunity to send a whispered jinx at him. 

Immediately all of Hermione’s books flew from her bag and began biting Ron’s ankles as he ran. 

Glancing to where Alicia and Katie had been flirting all afternoon, she winked. 

The two giggled in response. 

* * *

Lydia was halfway done with her lunch when the twins finally arrived and sat in their usual spaces on either side of her. 

Fred leaned in to snatch one of her chips. 

George nudged her. “Nice jinx you pulled earlier. Ron’s still got the ankle marks.”

She snorted. “Does he? I set the books to become inanimate again when he apologized to Hermione.”

“He, ah, refused to until blood started dripping into his socks.”

She wrinkled her nose. “No offense, but your brother is an idiot.”

“We know.”

She handed Fred the rest of her chips and reached for the biscuits. 

George told her, “Ron thinks your standards are too high. Says you haven’t got a date.”

“Personally,” Fred continued, “I’d be surprised if you don’t have one.”

“Though, that glare of yours does scare people away.”

“We’ve told him you’re going with Krum. He’s very jealous.”

She smiled. “Ha! He’s got the wrong girl, then. I’m actually going with Luna.”

Fred, bless him, barely blinked at the surprising match. “I can see that, actually. I’m more surprised Minnie’s letting you. She won’t let me go with Priscilla.”

Ginny leaned across the table. “You mean Lee’s tarantula?”

Lee nodded. “Match made in heaven, I say. But you know how it is, star crossed lovers and all.”

Ginny blinked very slowly for a moment and then left for the Ravenclaw table, shaking her head. 

Luna simply stood and followed after her. 

Laughing, Lydia directed them back to what they had been talking about before Priscilla. “Professor McGonagall doesn’t know. Nev’s asking Ginny, so the girls can come, then we’ll do a little switch once inside.”

“Our little snake.”

“Already sneaking around the rules at such a young age.”

“I’m _fifteen!_ ”

“Our little-”

“-tiny baby rebel. My, how they grow up.”

“Just yesterday you were learning manipulation. And now, you’re sneaking into a dance.”

She rolled her eyes and nudged them both in the ribs. 

“Hush, peabrains. Have you got dates?”

Fred grinned. “Angie agreed to come with. She’s not really interested in anything more, but I‘m a charmer.”

“More like she’s planning on spiking the juice and wants a scapegoat.”

“And _who_ has no date?”

“I’m working on it! Not my fault all the girls we know are either young or taken.”

Lydia snorted. “Children, children. I have a solution.”

They waited for several moments in silence while she continued eating. 

Finally, George said, “What’s the solution? I’m begging you Lydia, help me.”

She stared him in the face and said, “Aren’t beggars usually on their knees?”

* * *

Harry was dragging his feet as they attempted to waltz for the fifth time that night. 

Curfew had passed hours ago, and yet they were nowhere near successful in their attempts to dance. 

After he failed not to crush her toes for the tenth time, she sighed sharply and let go of his hands. 

“New plan, because you’re as graceful as Hagrid’s skrewts.”

She walked a bit off, and shed her school robe and tie. Removing her wand from where it was tucked in the robe pocket, she pointed it at a dusty book. 

“ _Esse Vin._ ” The book became a record player, and then it began to play the song she’d had stuck in her head for weeks. 

When she turned back, Harry was staring at her. “What are you doing?”

“Tie and robe off. Take your shoes off too, but leave your socks.”

He did so, and she kicked off her own shoes. 

Then, as the first lyrics began to play through the room, she took his hands again and placed them on her waist. 

“Okay, now listen to me. Right forward, left follow. Left forward, right follow.”

“Lydia I can’t-”

“This is your karma for that idiotic stunt with the dragon.”

“Are you ever letting that go?”

“I will when you stop flirting with Death.”

“I don’t flirt, I _tease._ There’s a difference.”

“Shut up and repeat what I said.”

“Right forward, left follow. Left forward, right follow.”

“Like a magnet. Now right back, left follow. Left back, right follow. You got it.”

The record went on a loop, and once Harry had begun to memorize the steps, she sang the lyrics to keep him going. 

“ _Rags to riches, or so they say_ \- don’t drag that foot, step - _You know it’s all a gamble when it’s just a game._ There you go, your turn.”

He stumbled through the words, but his focus was off his feet, so she had accomplished something. 

“ _Take me down to the paradise city_

 _Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty_.”

She grinned at him. “There you are, you’ve got it. Spin me.”

“What?!”

“Oh don’t look so panicked. Take my arm, there you go, and twirl me.” She spun out, and then he pulled her back. “Nice, if we hadn’t spent several hours doing this I’d say you were a natural.”

She shoved her away, but she bounced back to his chest because of his hands on her waist. 

Laughing, she let him lead her through the steps again. 

“Lydia, I should thank you. I know it’s not exactly easy being my friend.”

She frowned as he spun her again. “It’s not easy being mine either. Especially not for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hermione doesn’t like me, so if we were friends she would likely interpret it as a competition for your love. It would never be as such, but people are silly.”

He hummed and then asked, “So who’s your date?”

She laughed. “No way, Lightning. You’ll wait to find out like your Wheezy.”

“Wait - how did you know about that name?”

She grinned, and sprinted away from him to grab her things and sneak back to the common room. 

“Lydia, wait!”

As she sprinted down the corridor, the lyrics blasted behind. 

_I wanna see, what a woman can be_

_I want to take you home_

_Take me down to the paradise city_

* * *

The next morning, Lydia had taken Èlodie away from the Ravenclaw-Beauxbatons table and led her out to the chilly December air. Fred and George were sitting on one of the ledges, snow sticking to their robes. 

“George, Èlodie needs a jacket, could you spare yours? She also needs a date, not that you’re looking. Oh wait, you are!”

She snickered as George immediately jumped up to cover the French girl’s shoulders with his jacket, and began trying to sweet talk her. 

She jumped up to sit on the ledge next to Fred. 

“Subtle, Princess.”

“If I’d been subtle, George would have asked why she didn’t bring a coat.”

Fred snorted in agreement. “Yeah, true.” Settling his hands around her waist, he said, “Save a dance for us?”

“I already planned on it. It’ll be a slow dance, because Neville doesn’t like looking into my eyes. They freak him out.”

Fred snorted. “Are you sure that’s it?”

“What else would it be?”

For a girl so observant, Lydia was hopeless at seeing when she was fancied.

Fred glanced back at Lydia’s face from where he’d been watching his brother flirt and Èlodie practically eat it out of his hand. 

“Excited for the Yule Ball, Princess?”

She shrugged. “I suppose. It’ll be nice to dance and not be looked at like I’m mad.”

“You know what Luna says, ‘Some people just can’t hear the music.’ Maybe you just hear music louder than everyone else.”

“Maybe.” She was staring at George, something in her gaze that Fred couldn’t understand. “Hey Freddie, do you think your mum would be upset if I told her I want to drop out?”

“Do you?”

“Kind of. We could get a head start on that joke shop of yours.”

“With what money?”

She shrugged, finally tearing her gaze back to his. “I guess how all poor people get money - struggling. It's just...I want to be with you and George, where nobody else matters.”

She shrugged, then hopped onto the stone beneath the ledge. 

“Lydia, are you gonna elaborate on that at all?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

He raised his hand to wave, and slowly lowered it as she left skipping through the doors. “Bye, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, Loves. I couldn’t think of any trigger warnings, but if I need to put one please let me know!  
> Okay, notes about the dresses!  
> •So the cost of her dress is 13 Galleons and 25 Knuts, which converts to about 65£  
> •Here’s the closest I’ve found to the dresses: Luna: https://pin.it/67mmI95  
> Ginny: https://pin.it/50moG5D  
> For Lydia think this, but a dark orange at the top, fading into the red. https://pin.it/2qfRNp7  
> Parma’s I’m not sure if it’s really a lehenga, but I’m hoping Pinterest didn’t mislead me: https://pin.it/1ENSfmB  
> So that last bit is going to be made into a bigger plot point, but not major. Just look out for it in the next chapter. (Please leave your guesses! I feel like nobody will guess what it is.)  
> I’m desperate for comments as always, so please let me know what you liked :) I love when people quote lines they really enjoyed, so do that if you like.  
> Uhhh I can’t think of anything else besides plugging my tumblr: https://wizardrywilting.tumblr.com/  
> Also!! If you’d like to see any little scenes feel free to request and I might do it!
> 
> words: 3251
> 
> Next Week: A Christmas prank goes wrong and Lydia is left feeling like she’s got a second voice in her head.


	6. Devil On Your Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Having fun, Princess?”  
>  “I am, Peabrain. I guess I don’t need to ask if you and Angie are going by the lipstick on your cheek.”  
> He brings his hand to it in awe and George cackles.   
>  “Lydia, have you ever thought about matchmaking? Because Èlodie is a delight. She even told me about a prank she pulled back at Beauxbatons.”
> 
> Lydia briefly wonders if she’s just doomed Hogwarts to a fate of destruction. She figures it will be fine. Probably. Maybe. 
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - 
> 
> The night hasn’t gone devastatingly wrong as of yet, and Lydia supposes that’s all she could expect without sacrificing her soul or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: implying threat to a child (past), implied blood stuff, general McBrien family stuff.

Lydia had been hard at work in the past few months to create new charms for the combined necklaces. It was high time Neville, George, and Ginny got their own charms, although she hoped George wouldn’t ever be away from Fred long enough to use it. (Or away from her, preferably, but she could be realistic.)

Each charm took a couple months to finish, so it was as the sun rose slowly on Christmas morning that she just finished Ginny’s. 

Wrapping the miniature broom up in a small box, and placing it next to the wrapped perfume she’d bought as a second gift, she glanced around at the other presents she’d wrapped last night. 

Neville’s gift consisted of a leaf charm and faux gold chain, as well as the sequel to the book he’d gotten from Professor Moody. The author, Hadrian Whittle, had written another book called  _ Magical Water Plants of the Highland Lochs _ a few years previous and she thought he’d like it. 

Sitting in a row at the end of her bed were the rest of the things she’d bought. Not all of them would be opened until tomorrow, as she was going to the Burrow for a late unwrapping. 

Only Luna and Neville would get to see what she’d gotten them, along with the friends from her study group. 

She hoped Luna liked the earrings made from orange skins, it seemed her style and had made Lydia’s fingers sting when juice seeped into a few paper cuts. 

She’d found a lot of good bargains for her shopping this year, and had used the extra few sickles to buy Nicolas a stuffed bear. It would wait until she saw him next, currently sitting in the bottom of her trunk. 

When Lydia noticed the sun was finally starting to shine into the dorm, she stood and fed Stoner. After petting him for a few minutes, she grabbed the presents for Neville, Luna, Terry, Heidi, Rhys, and Padma and stuffed them under her arms. Then, she tiptoed out of the dorm and down to Ginny’s dorm to wake her. 

Freya was awake, painting her nails in red and green, when Lydia tiptoed in. 

“Hiya, Lydia. Happy Christmas!”

Lydia smiled at the girl. “Hi, Freya. I’m just here to grab Ginny.”

Freya chuckled softly. “G’luck. She stayed up late last night making a bracelet for Luna. Luna’s over on Bonnie’s bed, by the way.”

Lydia frowned in the direction Freya had pointed and hugged a laugh. “Right, thanks. Have a good Christmas, Freya.”

Without waiting for more conversation, Lydia shook Ginny. 

She didn’t flinch at the attempted punch to her jaw, and just batted away the fist. “Ginny! Wake up or Ron’ll get all the bacon!”

Ginny sat up so fast they thudded heads, both girls swearing. 

“Ah fucking  _ hell _ no! See you, gotta-”

“Get the bacon, yeah, I know. Bring food back to the common room, alright?”

Ginny barely gave her finger guns before she was sprinting. 

She rolled her eyes, then continued to Luna.

The girl was generally a light sleeper, so all Lydia needed to do was sit down beside her and brush through her hair using her nails. 

“LuLu, wake up. It’s Christmas.”

Luna’s grey eyes popped open, and she stared for a moment. 

“Good morning, Lydia.”

“It is pretty good, Lu. Ready for breakfast? Gin’s guarding the bacon.”

Luna let out a giggle, and nodded. 

When they got to the common room, George and Fred were already there, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie snoozing on each other. 

“Sleep well, girls?”

Lydia smiled at Fred, and shrugged. “As well as ever. Will someone wake Neville?”

Luna piped up, “I’ll go get Natalie. She’s about to wake up.” 

Then she was gone too. 

Lee stood and jogged up the stairs to what would be the fourth year dorm floor.

Ginny came jogging back through the portrait then, Colin helping her balance the multitude of plates and goblets. 

Angelina blinked herself awake. “Is that allowed?”

“Probably not,” Colin admitted, then shrugged. “But since when do we adhere to those silly things?”

That seemed to be enough for them all, because everyone dug in as soon as Luna, Lee, Natalie and Neville returned. 

When Lee tried to suggest collecting their other housed friends, Luna stopped him. 

“No. We need to open our gifts in a different room.”

Knowing by now to listen to Luna, they all stood and followed her in line form. 

They picked up the rest of their friends on the way, Lydia ducking into the dungeons to find Rhys since she wasn’t scared of Slytherins unlike most of the other houses were. 

Luna finally seemed happy when they got to the third floor again, finding a girl with black hair to her waist and a Hufflepuff scarf. 

“Daichi Amano. Follow us.”

Daichi followed with an amused smile, happily falling into step next to Lydia. 

“Hi, you’re that scary snow white girl Colin’s always talking about, right?”

Colin flushed to his hairline. “Aw come on, how’d you hear about that?”

“Dennis and I talk. Anyway, I think it’s nice how you help out the little ones. No one would expect it with your constant scowl.”

Luna was still walking, and placed her hand on a rickety old door that looked to have been unused for possible decades. 

It creaked open with barely a push, and they all filed in. 

Immediately, George and Ginny started wrestling, the former shrieking as Ginny blew dust in his face. 

It’s entertainment, so Lydia keeps half an eye on them while she helps Lee pass around the gifts to be given. 

* * *

The Yule Ball is in half an hour, and Lydia’s put getting ready off as long as possible. 

Well she could probably put it off more, but Lavender is on her knees begging and it’s setting off a knot in her stomach she doesn’t like. 

“Get up and stop crying before your mascara smears.”

Lavender abruptly stops crying with a horrified shriek. 

Holding back her laugh, Lydia stripped out of her large embroidered lion tee (courtesy of Alicia’s mum) and Scooby Doo pyjama pants. Leaving them on the floor to give Stoner something to spread out on, she shimmied into the dress she’d bought. 

It had been hanging off the top of her four poster for the past few days, and was barely wrinkled when she managed to zip it halfway up her back. 

She tightened her ponytail and stood. 

“See? I told you I would be done fast.”

Parvati, Lavender, and even Hermione looked horrified. 

Hermione grimaced. “Lydia, you’re still wearing your mary janes. And your hair is in a ponytail. Don’t you want to-”

“I don’t even own makeup. Besides, I like my hair this way.” She did, however, transfigure her mary janes to short black pumps. They felt a little weird, but the extra inch of height made her feel badass so she could deal. 

Parvati looked like she might faint. “Oh Waheguru.  _ Please  _ let me do your makeup!”

Lydia glared at her. “No touching the scar. Just a little mascara.”

“And eyebrows! Let me shape them!”

Lydia glared. “Fine. But if it turns out bad I’m waxing yours.”

Parvati let out a whimper at the threat, but she sat Lydia down and pulled out her supplies. 

When Lavender reached for Lydia’s hair, she was shoved and then pouted for the remaining few minutes Parvati took. 

In the end, Lydia’s eyebrows hurt but didn’t look too bad, and her eyes were watery from being poked.

She looked to the mirror at the shared vanity between Parvati and Lavender’s beds and pouted at herself. 

She supposed she could change her hair, just a bit. 

Waving her wand and imagining what she wanted, she closed her eyes for a second. When she felt the hair shift she opened them. 

Her hair was now in a bun at the nape of her neck, a few strands near her forehead and ears pulled out and curled. 

She didn’t look bad. 

It didn’t take long to shoo the other girls out of the dorm, and when they’d left she did a quick twirl to watch the colors blend together, giggling to herself. 

Her wand was stuck in the waist of her dress, poking her back a little. 

Then, she tiptoed down the multitude of stairs to reach the common room. 

Hermione had scurried off somewhere, and it was obvious why. The common room was stifling, students from all the younger year groups trying to get a peek at the older ones. 

She managed to find Neville in a corner and she gripped his arm. He was shaking. 

“Come on, Nev. Let’s get out of here before I sock someone.”

He snorted, so at least he wasn’t beyond panic, and looped his arm through hers. 

As they strolled through the halls they met Ginny and Luna, and Ginny was given to Neville while Luna made herself at home at Lydia’s side. 

“Ready to piss off some purebloods?”

Ginny grinned like she had just hexed someone. “Oh Lydia. I was  _ born  _ to piss of purebloods.”

The night hasn’t gone devastatingly wrong as of yet, and Lydia supposes that’s all she could expect without sacrificing her soul or something. 

For the first hour of the ball she dances with Luna, doing some weird arm flapping and spinning. It’s fun, and she doesn’t pay kind to the teasing other students are doing. 

By the time Ginny joins in, the twins are there too, pulling her away and dragging her to the midst of what seems like a mosh pit. 

“Having fun, Princess?”

Lydia grins at Fred. “I am, Peabrain. I guess I don’t need to ask if you and Angie are going by the lipstick on your cheek.”

He brings his hand to it in awe and George cackles. 

“Lydia, have you ever thought about matchmaking? Because Èlodie is a  _ delight.  _ She even told me about a prank she pulled back at Beauxbatons.”

Lydia briefly wonders if she’s just doomed Hogwarts to a fate of destruction. She figures it will be fine. Probably. Maybe. 

“I haven’t considered it, that’s more Parvati’s thing. This whole event is pretty fun, loathe I’m to admit it.”

As the next song comes on, something with harsh guitar tones and drums, they begin swaying her arms in a weird motion that makes her fall into their sides over and over. 

The thing about being friends with the twins, is that after a while you begin to notice the tiniest differences. All everyone else sees are the similarities, but Lydia and Lee can see what isn’t the same.

George has a mole on his left ear, and Fred has a formation of freckles on his back that look like the Little Dipper. George doesn’t say the word ‘tour’ quite the same as Fred, putting a bigger emphasis on the U. The differences are actually a substantial amount, if you look hard enough.

The point is, Lydia can see that Fred’s smile is slightly different than George’s. While George focuses entirely on Lydia’s face, Fred is more focused on the drink table behind her.

She steps on his toes purposely.

“What the - what was that for?”

She smiles at him. “I know you want to go snog Angelina some more. Go on, Peabrain.”

“But-”

He’s not even denying it, the sweet thing.

“Go on, already. Georgie will keep me company. Won’t you?”

George nods, taking the hand Fred has. “Of course I will. I’m her jester, after all.”

Fred sighed, gave Lydia a quick peck on the forehead in thanks, and nearly sprinted off only hesitating to press a pair of spongy ear plugs in her hand.

Lydia laughed, turning back to face George. “He’s a little smitten.”

“Yeah, he’s always liked Angie. She’s intimidating.”

The song changed from harsh to a little softer, and George tensed a bit.

“Alright, Jester?”

“Of course, Princess. Just worried for my toes. This isn’t the kind of dance you can wing.”

She smiled up at him, still too short to not have to. Stepping closer, she moved his arms to around her waist. “What makes you think I’ll need to wing it? I can dance.”

“If the way Harry’s dancing is a measure of your skill I’ll pass.”

She glances to where Harry is ignoring poor Padma and sighs. “I learnt much better than Harry did.”

Sighing, George led her through the steps of a waltz, the lyrics faded as it went in their ears.

Lydia knew he was nervous. She didn’t know why, but she could tell by the trembling of his fingers against her bare back.

She hooked her arms firmer around his neck.

He swayed with her, and after a moment of hesitation, craned his neck down to kiss the top of her head, resting there for the remaining dance.

_ What a lady _

_ What a night. _

_ I felt a rush like a rollin' ball of thunder _

The twins set off a prank, because of course they do. Lydia is dancing with Rhys when it happens. 

(And boy, had that been difficult to make happen! She’d had to promise to do his Runes coursework - not that she minded. She understood he wanted to keep the image of angsty Slytherin up, but still, the bloke needed to live a little.)

A loud bell rings over the music, startling the band so badly a tambourine gets thrown and hits Professor Snape in his hooked nose.

The bells continue for a few minutes, but then they abruptly stop. She and Rhys look at each other in confusion, but then dust rains from the ceiling and all over everyone.

It’s red and green, and covers every piece of skin it touches, sliding right off of clothing.

Lydia shrugs and they continue dancing, but when the band goes to play again, all their instruments are muted. Instead, carols ring through what sounds like a sound system - except Hogwarts doesn’t have that.

Rhys actually lets out a grin and says, “Quite the send off to holidays, innit?”

Then, he spins her by the arm so hard that her glasses slip off her face. 

In the last half hour of the ball, wringing his hands, Neville sat on the bench next to her. 

“I saw you dancing earlier. It looked fun.”

“It was!” She handed him her fizzy drink and he sipped from it without really thinking. “You want to dance? It occurred to me that everyone else has gotten a dance with me except for you.”

He smiled at her and set the drink down. “Yeah, I would actually.”

She vanished the drink with a wave of her wand, and grabbed his hand. 

As they swayed to the music, not really dancing just listening, Lydia spotted Parvati and Padma alone, glaring at Harry and Ron. She sighed, and leaned in to adjust Neville’s collar. 

“Hey, wanna help me make Parvati and Padma’s night?”

He hooked their arms and led them to the table the sisters were at. 

Ron was complaining about Krum, and Harry was nodding along. 

Lydia raised an eyebrow at the boys. 

“Ron, why haven’t you taken Padma dancing?”

“We went once! Besides, there’s more important things. Hermione-”

Lydia cuffed his shoulder. “I know damn well your mum didn’t raise you to ignore a beautiful girl, Ron Weasley!”

Padma and Parvati giggled. 

Lydia turned to Harry. “Come  _ on _ , Harry. I taught you to dance so you’d give Parvati a good time, not so you’d sulk with your brain cell renter.”

Neville even laughed then. 

Lydia kicked Harry’s foot. “Why are you here if you’re sulking? Just be honest and tell a girl you’re ditching them next time.”

She grabbed Padma’s hand and Neville grabbed for Parvati. 

“Dance?”

* * *

Lydia will admit, if only to herself, that George makes her feel warm. She’s a smart girl, so she knows the warm feeling her chest gets when their skin touches is probably a crush. 

Growing up, the only time her father had ever allowed talk of love is when he’d sat her down at four years old and told her very sternly,

_ “You’re going to grow up one day. When you are grown up, I’m going to give you a very special mission. You know what those are, correct?” _

_ She had bit her lip, and nodded. “I think so, Daddy. It’s the stuff you and Uncles do sometimes right? And you come home and smell like copper pennies and have money. It’s your job.” _

_ He ruffled her hair. “Precisely. When you’re old enough, I’ll send you on a very important mission. Your mission will be to find a rich prince, and become his queen. Like your princess books.” _

_ “Oh, like Cinderella!” _

_ “Mhm. You want to be a queen, don’t you?” _

_ “Yes, yes I wanna! What will I gotta do?” _

_ He had frowned at her grammar, but didn’t correct it like he might have normally. “You’ll be told who to go for, I’ll help with that. But you’ll have to make him like you.” _

_ “What if I don’t love him, Daddy?” _

_ “Love doesn’t matter in this world, Asset. What matters is money. And your husband will be rich.” _

_ “But-” _

_ “Don’t you want to be a princess? You won’t survive without a prince.” _

And it sounded like a threat. 

So Lydia really didn’t anticipate having a crush ever. She knew one day she’d marry someone she hated, and have to continue on the Company. At least, until she met the twins and actually had hope. 

The point was, she didn’t know what to do about this crush. George had his eye on someone, she could tell, even if she wasn’t sure who. Lydia wouldn’t be but a blip on his radar, especially like  _ that.  _

No, it made more sense to lock it deep in her rib cage along with her heart, where she couldn’t get hurt. 

Because she knew, if George ever found out, he’d try so hard not to hurt her but it would happen anyway. 

That’s how these things went, after all. What was love even? Romantic love? Was that real? Lydia certainly never saw it. 

She knew her mom had once loved her father, but when?

She cuddled deeper into George’s chest as the train hit another bump, and when his arms tightened around her instinctually, her chest  _ burned.  _

They were all rushed to bed as soon as they got back to the Burrow, the car having malfunctioned and it already being near dawn by time Mr. Weasley learned they were accidentally in the Netherlands rather than England. (How that happened Lydia didn’t know. She’d fallen asleep against George’s shoulder after the fifth hour driving.)

The morning of Boxing Day she woke, and found a blue jumper at the end of Ginny’s bed. It matched her eyes, though she’s baffled how Mrs. Weasley had gotten an exact shade to match. 

She sleepily gets half through her presents, including a new knife Percy had apparently snuck around his mum, when Fred offers her a hot cocoa. 

It doesn’t occur to her to be suspicious, and that’s her mistake. 

She’s halfway into unwrapping a set of books and small explosives from Sirius and Professor Lupin when her mind feels heavier. 

She pauses in her unwrapping a little, and she mentally screams. 

Look, she’s paranoid and mind reading is possible. 

**_‘Ow what the hell?!’_ ** calls a voice. 

She looks to stare at Fred, who has fallen asleep on the sofa. 

**_‘Fred Weasley, is that you?”_ **

There’s sudden silence, and Lydia sets the books to the side, burying the small explosives in with the dress Mrs. Weasley had gifted her. 

She stands and levels her wand at George. 

Before she can do anything, Fred screams in her mind,  **_‘He doesn’t know I’m in here! I didn’t tell him I was pranking you!’_ **

Lydia quickly brings her wand down, blushing. 

“Uh, what’s wrong, Lydia?”

She huffs. “Sorry, I thought you were Fred. I swore revenge on him earlier for turning my eyebrows green.”

“...Right.”

She smiles stiffly, grabbing her presents and running to Ginny’s room. As an afterthought, she closes the door. 

**_‘What the hell is going on?’_ **

**_‘Look, I’ll be out by tomorrow.’_ **

**_‘Tomorrow?!’_ **

**_‘I gave you too much by accident! Sorry.’_ **

She sighs, but before she can do much Mrs. Weasley calls her for breakfast. 

**_‘What if they think something happened to you? Your body has been asleep for hours.’_ **

Breakfast was over, and she was sitting at the kitchen table watching the Weasleys play some sort of trivia game with Harry and Hermione. 

**_‘George will cover, I told him about the prank, just not that I was using it on you.’_ **

**_‘Why not? Won’t he be excited you finally got me?’_ **

**_‘Uh. No. You’ve always been off limits. I mixed your and Percy’s drinks up.’_ **

She gave a quiet groan, and George looked up in concern. 

“Alright?”

Trying to fight the blush, she said, “Yeah, this character just made a bad decision in my book.”

He smiled at her and went back to the trivia game, which was good because she really was blushing now. 

**_‘No way!’_ **

**_‘Shut up.’_ **

**_‘How come you fancy him and not me?’_ **

**_‘Shut up!’_ **

It’s surprisingly easy sharing a mind with her best friend. 

The only real issue comes while she’s doing a potions essay and watching the Weasley siblings have a tickle fight. 

**_‘Goddamnit that looks fun.’_ **

**_‘Join them.’_ **

**_‘No, I… I might hurt someone accidentally as a first response.’_ **

Without her own permission, a memory flicks across her mind of the time her cousins had ambushed her under the guise of tickling, when they had really broken three of her fingers.

**_‘Who are they? I’ll kill them.’_ **

She jumped a little. 

**_‘You son of a bitch, I forgot you were here. Don’t scare me like that.’_ **

**_‘Lydia, who-’_ **

She began to mentally sing.  **_‘LA LA LA LA.’_ **

It happened once more as Percy walked by and ruffled her hair. 

A memory flashed across her mind as she stiffened, the last time she had let her hair hang freely. 

Her cousin Henry was holding her down on a carpet floor, a knife in his hand. She managed to rip her hand from his grasp, and another child fisted a hand in her hair as she tried to break free. 

She managed to blink away the memory just before the knife touched her cheek. 

**_‘Don’t you dare mention that.’_ **

**_‘Lydia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to see that.’_ **

**_‘...I know, Freddie. Just don’t mention it, okay?’_ **

**_‘I hate your family.’_ **

**_‘Yeah, me too. Just...can you stop talking unless you have the answer to this essay? Because I really need to get it done.’_ **

**_‘It would be illegal to use a Wit-Sharpening potion in a contest of any sort. If you want to lengthen your answer, list a bunch of types of contests. I did that once and he passed me.’_ **

**_‘...Thank you.’_ **

They both knew she was thanking him for more than the cheating. 

Lydia was so grateful when Fred left her mind, but also slightly lonely. 

So, it was with an emptier mind and sense of loneliness that she asked Mrs. Weasley to bake a tart with her. 

They were part way through the lemon tart when Mrs. Weasley, who had been sneaking concerned looks at her through the entire twenty minutes of prepping ingredients, finally stopped and held Lydia’s face by her cheeks. 

She turned her face this way and that, brow frowning. 

“Have you been sleeping dear?”

“Yeah, I mean, mostly. Why?”

“You look very stressed, and tired. Why don’t you sit and tell me about it while this bakes?”

Lydia wasn’t as reluctant as she should have been. There was something about Molly Weasley that made you want to open your soul. 

“Did the twins tell you about my brother?”

The woman frowned. “No, they haven’t. Is he ill?”

“No, he… My dad didn’t tell me about him until last March. He’s four and a half, but when I met him he was only three. I just worry about him.”

Mrs. Weasley looked very confused for a moment, before she gasped silently and her eyes went wide and sympathetic. Lydia wished she could hate her for it. 

“Oh, dear. Well, I’m sure your brother misses you as much as you miss him, and he’ll be excited to see you this summer.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I just, without me there to take any - well, I worry Dad will be hard on him.”

Mrs. Weasley frowns, then sits down next to Lydia. “Well, I think every sibling worries about that. When Bill went to chase curses around Egypt, he first wrote every week, asking after his siblings. He was so worried. But after some time, he learned that they would always be waiting.”

Lydia bit her lip, eyes too watery for her taste. “But, what if he hates me.”

“Now how could he do that? I bet he’s just waiting for when you walk in that door and he sees those beautiful eyes of yours. I bet his are the same beautiful blue. He’s just going to look for that familiar color and the sound of your voice, and then he’ll come running for a hug.”

Lydia laughed. “Yeah?”

“Of course. He might act a little ornery at first, upset you left, but he’ll just be glad you came back eventually. Besides, until then he’s got your dad.”

_ That’s what I’m worried about _ , Lydia didn’t say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually so excited because this update falls on my birthday! 17, my loves! Anywho, notes:  
> -I debated for a while between "Devil On Your Shoulder" or "Christmas Bells Are Ringing (Seriously Fred and George, Shut Them Off)" lol.  
> -The Yule Ball section was really hard to write! It took me three days, while the other parts only took one. So weird. I hope it was alright, though.   
> -The bit at the Burrow honestly left me feeling a little wanting, but I hope it was okay. I had an idea, just not sure how to execute it well.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! I love hearing comments. Oh! And let me know if I need more trigger warnings.
> 
> words: 4252
> 
> Next Week: Things immediately go wrong back at Hogwarts...


	7. If I Get Stuck, That's On You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Take care of him, please?”  
>  “I always try, old man.”  
>  "Read the letter after we’re gone. The necklace is charmed to protect you while it touches your skin. Only thing it won’t protect from is the Unforgivables, but hopefully you stay away from those. Professor Flitwick helped me, so it should be damn good.”  
>  “You’re peculiar, but thanks.”  
>  “Yeah, my dad dropped me down a flight of steps as a toddler.”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> The month of January includes getting a letter about her grandmother, discovering a tournament clue, and devising a plan for Sirius. All in all, pretty calm for Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> -It's mentioned once (1) that Cedric took weed. (Can you "take" weed? idk)  
> -Sprout tells Lydia to come fin her if she wants medicine other than potions, alluding to dr*gs. It is vaguely glossed over, Sprout doesn't even appear in the scene, just a passing thought of Lydia's.
> 
> Let me know any more I should put!
> 
> Wow, I switched POVs a lot. Uh, hopefully it's clear, but a POV switch will always start after a cut, btw.

Fred was the twin that spoke less. George had the big mouth, and often didn’t bother listening. It was as if he had one functioning ear, and he simply didn’t bother to use it. Fred listened to everything around them, and the files the information away for later - be it blackmail or just what was for supper. 

The point was, he noticed things about those he loved. It used to be limited to his siblings and parents, but then came Lydia. He knew things about her. A lot of things. 

Like the fact that she only spoke of her family with disdain, if she spoke about them at all. She dreaded summer. If that wasn’t fishy enough, he’d gotten stuck in her mind and _saw why_.

(Honestly, he meant to give Percy the laced cocoa, he got distracted by Angelina laughing with Alicia. Really!)

It bothered him. A lot. The things he’d seen...it made him want to set something in fire, or smash something. Neither were an option though, as his mum really liked their curtains and dishes, so he stewed in the feeling. 

When Lydia was found alone, an uncommon occurrence since her friends were clingy, he took it as a sign from the Universe. Or Merlin. Someone. 

“Princess!”

She turned from where she’d been waving her wand at a wilted flower. 

“Freddie, hi. Can you believe there’s a plant within ember distance of the fire - isn’t that silly?”

The poor plant was dead, completely singed. There were ashes in the pot. 

“Yeah… Say, can we talk?”

She frowned. “We said you wouldn’t mention what you saw.”

 _Alright, not going the subtle way, wicked._ Fred thought. 

“Yeah, and I won’t. I just...there’s a question that’s been eating at me and I wanna ask it.”

She sighed and grabbed his hand, dragging him to a small door behind a curtain. 

She kicked the door in, pushing him through then crawling in herself. 

Sitting on a cushion, he waited for her to settle. 

Once she had, and was raising expectant eyebrows, Fred asked, “I saw the memories, I understand why you’re jealous. Your family sucks, I kind of want to punch your dad and gran. But…”

“But why am I jealous of your family to the point that I wish I’d been born into it?”

“...Yeah. I’m sorry.”

She sighs, kicks her foot out so it’s resting by his hip. It’s cramped in here, but they’re long past being uncomfortable while in each other’s space. 

“Fred, think about it like you’re me, alright? Y’all have supper around a table every night. Your dad comes home and asks how your day was and _actually cares_. You get handmade jumpers from your mum. You love each other, despite the teasing and pranks. You know that if one of you were sad you could go to any of your siblings and they’d help. Your dad never left you wondering if he’d come back. I wanted that.” She sighs and thuds her head against the wall. The wood creaks. “I still want that.”

And it hurts Fred, to see her this way. 

Lydia is his little sister, red hair or not. It’s like Harry - they don’t share blood, but he’s as much his brother as George is. 

And his sister...neither of his sisters should ever look so vulnerable, so hurt. 

So Fred does the only thing he can think of; He slaps a sticker onto her wrist, and watches as she turns shades of blue and pink. 

Scrambling out of the nook, he screams and runs from her lit up wand. 

This is how she should be - chasing him with giggles and hexes falling from her lips. 

* * *

Lydia was wide awake and sitting in the common room late one night in January. It was freezing, and without electricity to heat her blanket, her back kept locking up. It was one of the cons of titanium rods in your back, but it beat death, so Lydia couldn’t complain. 

Lydia figured she may as well use the time wisely, so she was getting ahead in her Muggle coursework. Professor McGonagall didn’t like how far ahead she had gotten last year when she was stressed, so the professor had used a spell to prohibit the pages turning after three chapters ahead in any class. It sucked. 

The point was Lydia was awake, and cold, and achy when Harry tiptoed down the stairs that night. His cloak was in one hand, a golden egg in the other. 

“Don’t tell me you’re opening that _now!_ You’ll wake the entire tower.”

He stumbled down the last three stairs and dropped the egg, glaring at Lydia when she caught it with a string of magic. 

“You made me drop my egg!”

“So long as you don’t hatch any, you’re fine. Again, what are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?”

He snorted and jumped to grab the egg where she was levitating it an inch above his head. 

“Yeah, well, this won’t solve itself.”

Thinking privately that the middle of January was way too late to still be procrastinating, Lydia raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, what’s your plan? Because you open that the wrong way, we’re both going deaf and I quite like listening to the Beach Boys.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, never a good sign.

“Well, Cedric said to take a bath - don’t laugh! He did say that. He said to take a bath with it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Boys are such idiots. Ced got high and went swimming with his egg so the task is probably something to do with water. Did he give you the password to the Prefect bathroom?”

“Uh, yeah, but that was a while ago.”

She sighed, stood up, and grabbed his cloak. “I know the password. Put this in your dorm, we won’t need it.”

“But what about-”

“I’m coming because I could use a warm bath, and if we get caught you were just taking me to the hospital wing. I’m your alibi. Lead, Lightning.”

They ended up only running into Professor Sprout who had told Lydia if she wanted something other than a pain potion to speak with her at some point, which was weird as hell, but they made it safely to the Prefect bathrooms.

Lydia had immediately transfigured her pyjamas into a swimsuit and sunk into the hot water, letting out a sigh.

“Do your thing, don’t mind me.”

Harry stared at her awkwardly for a moment, and she opened her eyes. “What?”

“Well I just - you’re in a swimsuit!”

“Did you expect me to get in fully clothed while you got in shirtless? Hell nah, Lightning. Now hurry up.”

He sighed and sunk in himself, plunging beneath the water with the egg. After a second of deliberation, Lydia followed.

**_And while you're searching, ponder this:_ **

**_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_ **

**_An hour long you'll have to look,_ **

**_And to recover what we took._ **

**_But past an hour -_ **

Lydia rose her head above the water, gulping in lungs. The bad thing about scoliosis is that even after it’s ‘fixed’ as well as possible, you still have less lung space. 

By the time Harry rose, having listened to it a second time, her breath was under control and her back was twinging less.

“Alright, what’s your guess?”

He settled the egg on the tub’s side, and leaned back near the bubbling faucet.

“It’s some kind of water creature that sings, probably them singing the clue. They took something I’ll miss, and after an hour it’ll be gone forever.”

“Well damn, that’s dark. So what is something you’d miss?”

“My cloak, my map, my broom.”

She hummed. “I can’t see why they’d take that. Someone you’d miss?”

“You really think they’ll take people?!”

“They made you face a dragon. In 1793 the three judges got hurt by a runaway cockatrice. In 1767 all three contestants were killed because they couldn’t tame a tarasque.”

“How-”

“They were impaled. Point is, Harry, this tournament doesn’t care about death. It’s entertainment. Will Dumbledore let students die? I hope not, but don’t go in naive.”

He shook the water from his hands and dragged them through his hair. 

“Okay, okay. So if it’s...people, then they might take Hermione, Ron, maybe you depending how they pick.”

“Elaborate.”

“No one has seen us being friends, but if there’s a spell they’d know.”

Lydia nodded. “Right, I’ll just carry an extra knife.”

“How do you even sneak those in?!”

Pretending she hadn’t heard him, Lydia stepped from the bath. 

“Come on, I want to go see Madam Pomfrey. My back feels on fire.”

* * *

Lydia can feel February will be a good month. She can’t explain it, but when she wakes on the first of the month, her hair hasn’t even escaped the plaits and that alone is a good omen. 

She slept through the night easily, woke for breakfast, and her oatmeal was perfectly warm and made thanks to Neville. 

She sighs when Errol comes flying in for the twins, a red envelope in his beak. But it's not a bad omen, so this month will be good!

Katie wordlessly hands earplugs to their entire group, placing her hands over Natalie’s ears in an extra precaution. 

It’s five minutes after the howler exhausts itself and explodes all over George’s toast that a second owl comes to them, this one a common barn owl. 

She frowns, because no one really sends her mail during the school year save for Christmas. 

The letter is dropped into her oatmeal, and she carefully flicks the pats off the envelope. 

Peeling it open, she pales, which must be quite alarming if the way Alicia feels her forehead is any indication.

She crumbles the letter and stands, feeling George grab her forearm in alarm as she does. 

“What happened?”

She gently places the crumpled piece of paper in his palm as a silent permission. 

Then, hefting her bag over one shoulder and nicking a few berries off the top of her oatmeal, she heads to Arithmancy lessons. 

As she leaves, she can hear the twins swear and Daichi go over to ask what had happened. 

She wants to cry, so she hurries to Professor Vector’s classroom to start her class work. 

Before she can make it all the way there, however, Neville catches up to her. His breath is coming out in sharp gasps, and he clutches her arm as a lifeline. 

“Bloody hell you walk fast.”

Smiling slightly, she jokes, “It’s the long legs.”

He looks up at her, face still flushed pink but his breathing steady, and says, “Come on, skip class with me.”

“Nev-”

“Really, please. I’ll even tell Vector that I needed some sort of help. Just come with me.”

Lydia sighed, but gripped his hand back. 

“Fine. But we’re going where I want.”

And they do. She leads him outside to a short tree.

“Lydia, it’s cold.”

She strips off her jumper and throws it down to him. He catches it before it can fall in the snow. 

The cold is biting at her exposed arms and legs as she climbs, but she pays it no mind and simply settles on a snowless branch. 

Groaning, Neville ascends, saying, “If I get stuck it’s on you, Lydia! I swear.”

She laughs, and things feel less difficult. 

It’s weird, talking to Neville about her grandmother. 

“I don’t talk about her for a reason, you know. She kinda sucks.”

He snorts. “Come on, obviously you’re feeling something since we’re in a tree. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m wondering why my mom even wrote to tell me she’s got some lethal thing. We never talk about her or my dad anymore, and I know my mom doesn’t care, so why should I?”

He shifted his hand so she could hold it. 

“Why shouldn’t you? She’s your gran.”

“Yeah, but she is a total bitch. My mom knows I don’t have a relationship with her, so what was the point?”

“What disease has she got?”

Blinking a little at the subject change, Lydia recited, _Ventrem Interitus._ Also known as the destruction of the stomach. It’s basically decaying, mom said.”

He hummed, and then whispered, “Maybe you want to tell her something and knowing this makes you scared you’ll not get to say it.”

She glared at their dangling feet. One of her shoes fell off. 

“What would I want to say?”

“I dunno, you tell me.”

If Lydia really thought about it, Neville was half correct. 

She did still care if her grandmother died, because her feelings were complicated. Her grandmother was an awful person, but she still felt the familial connection. 

And Neville was right that she wanted to tell her grandmother a lot. 

She wanted her to know that she hadn’t broken Lydia. That she _did_ have people who loved her, no matter what she did. She wanted her grandmother to know that she was better than their family, that one day the Company would be exposed for the travesty it was, and be over with. 

“Nothing in particular. I just...want to prove I’m better than what she thinks.”

“Maybe you should just prove yourself wrong. You’re a lot better than you think, Lydia.”

And then he jumped from the limb, picking up their bags. “Come on, double with Professor McGonagall starts in fifteen minutes.”

* * *

Luna had a hard time with the Voice, sometimes. They’d been with her as long as she could remember, but it never got easy. 

When she’d seen Lydia for the first time, the girl was laughing with the Weasley twins, and had smiled at Luna. 

Luna didn’t used to get smiles very often, especially from children her age. No one thought to include her, and they forgot quite often that Luna could hear their mockings. 

But Lydia had never once been mean. Luna and the Voice knew it was because something had happened to make her kind, something very unkind. Lydia always just gave a sort of confused smile when Luna said something odd, and asked her to elaborate. It was more than what anyone else did. 

Over the years, Luna had gotten quite good at understanding Lydia. She knew a little of what unkind thing had hurt her, and she knew it had to do with her family. Specifically, her father. 

Voice, long before they first spent time with Lydia, had told Luna a phrase that didn’t make much sense: **_Over the pond, borne a child of the sun_ **. 

It was so confusing, but over time Voice began to let her see small flashes of a baby. He was so cute, with the bluest eyes Luna had ever seen. 

She hadn’t understood why the eyes stood out so much until she saw them again, except instead of on a baby, it was on a girl’s face. 

Even after meeting Lydia, the flashes still came. Luna watched for three years as the boy, Sunling she named him, grew. He learned to walk and babble, then to jump and hold silverware. She didn’t like to think of the time his father showed him how to hold a scary knife, so the Voice held onto that memory for her. 

The point is Luna knew Lydia, and she remembered how big of a slump her best friend had gotten into after learning of the Sunling. 

This slump was so similar it was scary. Luna didn’t like losing her friend for those few months, and she was determined not to let her go again. 

So, after talking to Lee and Ginny, they planned a sleepover. It was going to be the best feel better sleepover they’d ever had, and they’d had a sad amount of them!

There would be ice cream and biscuits and lots of cocoa. They had collected piles of warm blankets and pillows, and Natalie had brought her Ele-friend, and Lydia would be able to fall asleep in a cuddle pile with the Beach Boys and Beatles playing. She’d feel better in no time!

It was as she got ready to levitate Neville up the girl’s dorm staircase that she whispered, “Have you figured out you love her yet?”

Taking advantage of his choking, she said for their friends to hear, “Ever considered letting Ginny and I transfigure you some girl bits?”

* * *

Sirius, honestly, is not having a good day. Or a good thirteen years, really. The things he looks forward to are rats, pets from nice villagers, and seeing his godson.

He did hope Harry dated that scary girl, because Sirius wanted to see her more often. She reminded him of something between Lily and Remus, but a bit scarier. Maybe Lily before she stopped hexing James? Either way, he liked her. If she were a redhead, it would be like James and lily all over again!

Scary girlfriend or not, Sirius was excited to see his Harry today. And, as he saw the boy come into view outside Sirius and Bucky’s cave, Sirius felt his heart jump in fondness.

Harry had a girl on his back, and she was messing up his hair, wearing his glasses atop her head. Her hair was red, so maybe a Weasley, and tied into some sort of plait on her head.

She shrieked as Harry flung her off, tackling and rolling around the snow as they fought for his glasses.

Hermione and Ron lagged behind, both laughing at them. Ron jumped on them, joining the girl’s side and keeping Harry’s glasses above the poor boy, while Hermione watched and giggled.

Deciding to join the fun, Sirius transformed to Padfoot and jumped on top of their pile.

Abruptly, Harry yelped, and the girl laughed.

“Oi, you licked my neck!”

“And you kneed my back! It was fair retribution.”

Sitting on his bum in the snow, Harry winced. “Sorry, Dia. I thought it was your stomach.”

“Oh, as if that's _so_ much better.”

The girl rolled onto her stomach and got to her hands and knees, sitting back on her heels. She handed Harry the glasses, and waved at Padfoot.

“Hey there, Crispo. Miss me?”

Padfoot tilted his head in confusion, because only one scary girl called him that, and she was not a Weasley.

Hermione grabbed Padfoot’s neck fur, and began leading them back to the cave. “Hurry, inside, before anyone sees.”

Ron snorted. “You reckon they think we’re all going in the cave to snog - OW, Hermione!”

The girl and Harry chuckled, leaning into each other.

Padfoot transformed the moment they were all in the cave, and pointed to the girl.

“Weasley?”

“Ha! I wish.” She waved her wand over her head, and suddenly the red hair faded to brown, and the eyes turned from brown to blue. Her freckles faded to pale skin, and Lydia McBrien was suddenly standing before him. “Hey there, Crispo. I ask again, didja miss me?”

“Funnily enough, I did. Why the disguise?”

“Your idiot godson - sorry, _totally intelligent and not at all stupid_ godson - insists no one knows I’m friends with him. It’s rather stupid since I’m already associate with the Weasleys, and thus him, but hey I try to make him happy.”

Harry is pouting, and it’s the cutest goddamn thing Sirius has ever seen. 

“Lydia, please come see me more, you are delightful.”

She laughed, and left to pet Bucky. 

_Was that even an answer?_

Sirius kind of wanted to hug Harry to his chest and forbid him to leave, but he’s pretty sure Remus would scold him if he found out Sirius had kept Harry from school, so he doesn’t.

Just before he lets them leave, however, he calls Lydia back.

“Take care of him, please?”

“I always try, old man.”

Before Sirius can get out a comment about that, she presses a letter and necklace into his hand.

"Read the letter after we’re gone. The necklace is charmed to protect you while it touches your skin. Only thing it won’t protect from is the Unforgivables, but hopefully you stay away from those. Professor Flitwick helped me, so it should be damn good.”

“You’re peculiar, but thanks.”

“Yeah, my dad dropped me down a flight of steps as a toddler.”

As Lydia runs to catch up with the other three, Sirius can hear Hermione demanding what the letter said, and Lydia saying, “If I told you I’d have to kill you. May I tell you?”

_Merlin, that kid is too much like himself._

When he looks at the pendant, he smiles. It’s a motorcycle.

He doesn’t open the letter until the next morning, when there’s enough light to see.

_Crispo,_

_I’m going to assume you’d like custody of Harry. I’m assuming this because I see how you talk about him, how he talks about you._

_I understand that because you aren’t innocent in the eyes of the Ministry of Dumbasses you can’t legally gain custody of Harry. However, I propose a solution._

_After speaking to a very nice Goblin named Ardrig, he’s informed me that while Sirius Black cannot have legal custody (in the eyes of the ministry, goblins don’t give two shits) Simon Potter-Zimmer can._

_Let me explain. Ardrig traces one of Fleamont’s relatives - his father’s sister, Norma Arlene Potter - to Canada. While she’s long dead, she had a son. However, she never registered him with a magical ministry. He was a squib. So, Ardrig is willing to forge a birth certificate for Simon Potter-Zimmer, her and Earl Zimmer’s magical son. If a Potter (albeit with a second surname) suddenly asks for Harry Potter’s custody, well who are they to deny? After all, the Potters wouldn’t have wanted their son raised with Muggles! This is where the current political climate works for us. The racist shits will hurry the process, missing the fact that Simon doesn’t exist in the Canadian ministry. But by the time they realize, you’ll have full custody._

_It’s a teeny bit illegal, but if you don’t tell neither will I. And Harry won’t care how you got custody, just that you did. That kid has such low standards, honestly._

_Obviously your innocence will be proven ASAP, but until then we can do this._

_In or out?_

_L._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay Loves, here's the chapter notes:  
> I am just now writing this on Sunday because I had my 17th birthday (woohoo!), lined up a ton of heart tests (not woohoo) and saw my best friend for the first time in an entire year. Holy shit! It was hella fun, but it meant I did like, no writing. Therefore, I word vomited this entire thing in a day.
> 
> lmao the chapter title is a reference to Spider-Man: Homecoming, I'm a nerd for marvel. 
> 
> So the thing about her back locking up? Yeah that's a thing that happens when it gets cold and it HURTS. This is 1000% a vent because I hate it. Oh, and the lung thing? Yeah, I still have limited breathing. Fun!
> 
> The "You made me drop my egg!" part? Imagine that in the vine voice. You won't regret it.
> 
> Ventrem Interitus: literally translates to "the destruction of the stomach"
> 
> Uhh that's it? I might post another work in the series, it won't be canon or spoil anything, it's just a text au lol. I might do a Muggle storyline with it, idk. Let me know your thoughts on that!!
> 
> Next Week: George has a realization, but before he can act on it, something goes wrong. Something always goes wrong.
> 
> words: 3703


	8. candy lane, staying up late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re doing that thing again,” She whispered, smiling.   
>  “What thing?”  
>  “That thing you’ve been doing all year. You randomly stop and stare into space when I hug you too long.”  
>  “Oh,”
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> He fancied Lydia, and he was totally screwed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: talking about a nightmare involving drowning/death, a panic attack, mention of children being s*ffocated
> 
> pov switch, as always it's after a break.

_ L, _

_ You are way too efficient for a kid. Really, you kind of scare me.  _

_ Of course I want custody, and the morality of faking my death and changing my identity isn’t a problem - morals kind of died in Azkaban. So did keeping my train of thought! So this is either going to be a short response or rambles.  _

_ I’m glad you can see how corrupt the world is, it’ll keep you from being hurt. But I hate it because you look like this sweet little girl and you’re so jaded. It messes with my head.  _

_ The main problem I see with your plan is this: How are we faking my death? Who will know? Dumbledore won’t like it, and neither will Moony. Harry will know, right? I don’t want to hurt him.  _

_ If you can answer these questions I’m in. I don’t know how I feel about lying to Moony, especially about this, but if it gives me Harry… I’d do anything for that kid.  _

_ Tell me how he’s doing, by the way? I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks and I’m worried. I’m still in the cave, so next time you lot are in Hogsmeade come visit.  _

_ By the way, it sounds like you have experience with his low standards. Is there a story there? I feel like there’s a story there.  _

_ I’m in, probably. _

_ Crispo _

* * *

Lydia sometimes worried about the magical world and its people. They were all so stupid. They never used logic, like during the second task. 

She had brought all the jumpers Mrs. Weasley had made her over the years, along with the scarves and mittens, and piled them on top of each other to keep her warm. 

Lavender had forgotten to wear even one jumper, but instead of simply summoning hers or duplicating Parvati’s they had shimmied into one. It would definitely tear within an hour. 

Another example, is the fact that they were all staring at the lake’s surface and gossiping rather than having brought anything to do. 

Luckily for her friends, Lydia had thought ahead and brought board games as well as any assignments they’d yet to do. (Which wasn’t many. Her friends had common sense, thanks.)

It was hours later, so absorbed in her biology coursework she barely noticed much else, that Neville gently nudged her ribs. 

“Look, they’re announcing scores.”

While the scores tumbled through a  _ sonorous _ spell, Ginny clued Lydia in on why happened. 

“Krum transfigured himself into a shark! Well, only partially. Cedric and Fleur both used Bubble-Head charms, and Harry did something with Gillyweed. But get this, Harry actually got there first, although he got back last. The sweet idiot stayed to make sure everyone got out, and when Fleur didn’t come he saved her sister!”

Lydia hummed, knowing she had put the idea in Harry’s head. She didn’t regret it, a little suspicion of authority figures was healthy. 

“Why did Harry get second place then?”

“Moral fiber, apparently,” Daichi snickered. “Hi, by the way! I snuck over a few hours ago but Ginny said not to interrupt your...bowlgy?”

“Biology, study of living things.”

Daichi shrugged. “Okay. Gotta go, the ‘Puffs will probably have a party and I shouldn’t miss it.”

Lydia didn’t pay much attention as they all headed back up to Gryffindor Tower, just held the letter from Sirius in her robe pocket, her arm looped with Neville’s as he guided them. 

He didn’t even get caught in the truck step - Lydia was so proud. 

Finding a time to respond was harder than it should have been, but she didn’t want to chance anyone seeing what was being written. She had managed to get some time in the Hospital Wing, where she was resting after a particularly physical defense lesson. 

_ Crispo, _

_ I’m glad your morals are similar to mine. I understand the hesitance to lie, and I hope you agree that it might be necessary - at least a little.  _

_ Of course Harry will know, as well as Professor Lupin. I think we’ll have to compromise on Headmaster Dumbledore knowing.  _

_ It’s not that I don’t like him or anything, but the less that know the truth the easier this will be. If Dumbledore knows, do you think he’d agree? He couldn’t help us very much anyway, so what would the benefit be? The goblins aren’t willing to work with wizards usually, especially the powerful ones.  _

_ Please, don’t tell anyone except right now. Not until we act.  _

_ As for faking your death, we have a few options: _

  1. _We make an illusion of you, do something to make you look dead and leave it for police/Aurors to find. This would work even better in the Muggle world if we use a cutting curse._
  2. _We leave a goblin made golem in Hogsmeade for someone to find. We would use a golem because they would likely call Dumbledore, and he’d likely run the spells for illusions. Aurors likely wouldn’t because the Ministry is idiotic._



_ I haven’t thought further than that, honestly. Ardrig (the goblin I told you about) thinks the second plan is best, as goblin made golems are unable to be detected by any non-goblin race. Illusions, however, are more risky.  _

_ Harry we can tell before it happens, don’t worry. He and Remus can be told a few days before it gets out, and they won’t be hurt by it. If anything, I think Harry will be happy you get freedom.  _

_ Speaking of him, he got second place in the task last week! Has he already told you? Either way, he did good! Granted we couldn’t see in the lake, but he told me the Grindylows actually seemed scared of him, which is why they let him take both Ron and Gabrielle. (Fleur’s little sister. Sweet girl.) _

_ I’m including some photos of me teaching Harry to dance, since I think you’ll get a laugh out of those, as well as some dog biscuits.  _

_ Talk soon, _

_ L. _

_ P.S. I’m going to write to Ardrig and schedule a meeting for this summer, if you have any questions for him make a list and send it to me.  _

* * *

Seeing his little brother in the lake had messed with George’s head, admittedly. 

He only realizes then when he wakes suddenly, a sharp pounding in his chest, and lip between his teeth to hold back a scream. 

Looking around the dorm room, he spots Lee asleep with Priscilla, the tarantula resting on his chest. Kenneth Towler, who had started sleeping with his clothing stuffed beneath the mattress after the prank in fifth year, was snoring lightly and clutching a pair of pants in his hand. 

Fred, next to George, had tangled their legs together during the night - something George was thankful for. 

He tried to sleep, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking and his heart wouldn’t stop pounding, and his constant turning is starting to wake Fred. So, he decides to leave the dorm for a bit. 

Maybe he’ll plan a prank, or read something. The point was, he needed alone time. 

When he does get out of the dorm and down in the common room, however, he isn’t alone. 

The last few steps creak, and with the sound comes Stoner. 

“Hey, there, mate. Why aren’t you in Lydia’s bed?” He gave him leg a pat, and Stoner climbed up into his arms. 

After a few impatient mews, George concedes and pets the grey fur. 

“Gonna keep me company, little kit?”

The sound of a tongue clicking catches the cat’s attention, and suddenly George’s arms are empty again. 

Lydia giggles up at his offended face from the sofa closest to the dead fire. 

“Hey, Georgie.”

He smiled at her, but he’s pretty sure he looks as exhausted as she does. (Which is quite a bit considering it looks like her under eyes are grey.)

“Evening, m’lady.” She laughs, and it makes the shaking still just the slightest bit. Laughing is good. Laughing means she’s alive. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Killer headache, you?”

He shrugs, and crosses the room to sit next to her on the sofa. He stares into the ash of the fireplace. “Dunno. Couldn’t sleep, I guess. Normally I’d go to Freddie, but…” he pauses, then decides to tell her. “He needs more sleep, he’s been stressed lately. So here I am.”

He tries to end it with a chuckle, but based on Lydia's expression she sees through it. 

Luckily, she lets him pretend he’s fine. “I can leave if you’d rather be alone.”

“No!” He says it too quickly, then adds softer, “No, I think that’s the last thing I need.”

She nodded, and moved her hand to hold his, biting her lip. 

After a moment, she exclaimed, “Let’s play  _ Candy Land! _ ”

Watching as she skipped to the shelf that held games, he laughed. 

“Ah, I forgot what it’s like to be young.”

She set the board down on the ground between them and paused to raise her eyebrows. “You’re only a year and six months older than me. That’s not old.”

“And that means you’re younger.”

Glaring, “You're only seventeen!”

“A legal adult!”

“As of yesterday!”

She pouted at him, then tossed the die so it would smack his nose. 

“I thought Quidditch stars had good reflexes.”

George didn’t acknowledge her and moved his piece five paces. 

She rolled her eyes when she saw. “The die says six paces, not five, you dumbo.”

“Didn’t realize  _ Candy Land  _ was so important.” He replaced his piece where she pointed, making her smile. 

“I never got to play it as a kid, so it’s fun now.”

“Really?” He watched as she carefully moved her piece two paces. “I got the impression this is a popular Muggle thing.”

“It is, but,” she shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t play much as a kid. I only ever played alone, and as you can see  _ Candy Land  _ needs at least two players.”

She took the die from him and rolled, getting a six. She rolled again. 

“Are there any magic board games?”

He had to actually think on that one for a moment, and she took the time to move her piece. 

“Not really. Dad always brought home lots of enchanted Muggle toys for us kids, though. Plus, we always preferred broomsticks.”

She snorted. “I’m surprised you weren’t born on a broomstick.”

George sighed with faux disapproval. “I wish I’d been.”

It was a full game and a half later that Lydia spoke up again. 

She was getting tired, he could tell, but she was still hiding her yawns. 

“You never told me, what’s keeping you up?”

He frowned, but trusting Lydia was never a question. Even so, he whispered it so no one else heard, “Nightmares. No matter how many times I tried, I can’t stop seeing it.”

“Seeing...what?”

He knows she would understand better than probably anyone, seeing as she has nightmares weekly. Even still, he’s embarrassed. 

“Remember the last task, and how Ron was underneath the lake?”

“Yeah, of course. That Fleur girl left kiss marks on Harry’s face.”

George gave a snort, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I saw, in my dream, the judges pulled Harry and Ron out, but they had both drowned.”

She interrupted with a gasp, drawing his hand into hers. 

“The more I tried to sleep, the more people they had to pull out. Once it got to you and Freddie I couldn’t take it.”

“Shit, Georgie. So when you said not to leave you alone you meant it.  _ Fuck! _ ”

He watched her struggle for a moment, and just when he opened his mouth to apologize, she whispered, “Can I hug you? Please?”

He nodded, and she lunged across the board and into his arms. 

Fixing her position until she was in his lap, she fitted his head to nestle in the side of her neck. 

It was uncomfortable, but felt right. Which was weird, right? 

He was so focused on trying to decide if the amount of safety he felt was wrong or not, that he completely missed when she pulled away. 

“You’re doing that thing again,” She whispered, smiling. 

“What thing?”

“That thing you’ve been doing all year. You randomly stop and stare into space when I hug you too long.”

“Oh,” There was no reason to be whispering, but he found himself unable to speak differently. “Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re okay.” She pulled away fully, and when she was seated across from him again, Stoner made himself comfortable in her lap and glared up at George. 

He swallowed the request for another hug and watched her pet Stoner for a few moments. 

He hadn’t hated the way hugging her just then made him feel, but it wasn’t good either. In those few seconds he had only felt a need to stay in her arms forever, with her forever. 

He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. Not only was she Ginny’s best friend, she was sixteen. She didn’t deserve to stress over her long term friend fancying her. 

(An ugly voice in his head told him he had been her best friend first.)

Lydia suddenly booped his nose, making him blink. 

She giggled. “What, have I got toothpaste on my chin?”

George laughed. “No, you’re pretty...uh, good. You’re pretty good. You don’t have any...toothpaste.”

She laughed again, and George prayed for a sinkhole. 

In that second, with her goddamn giggle and his undying embarrassment, George realized his mum was right. 

He fancied Lydia, and he was totally screwed. 

Lydia was by his side every day of the year, basically. 

She spent summers at the Burrow, save for those in the States, and they went to school together!

Oh Merlin. If his siblings (read: Ginny) found out they’d be insufferable! No. She couldn’t find out. 

A weight settled against his nose again. Lydia had booped him. 

“Oi, Georgie. Alright?”

“Yeah...just tired.”

She bit her lip as she was wont to do when thinking.

“Oh! Idea!”

Leaving him on the floor, she went to the sofa where her bed’s duvet had been dragged from her dorm. Dragging it to the larger sofa in front of the cold fire, she beckoned him.

“Here, lay down.”

Without waiting for him to obey, she turned to the fireplace. She lit it with a whispered word and point of her wand, completely disregarding the rules against doing so without a Prefect.

When she turned back to him, George was lifting the duvet for her.

Instead of trying to fit on the sofa’s edge, she lay herself right on top of him, pillowing her head on his chest and tangling their feet.

She huffed after a moment, and grabbed his arm to lay it across her back.

A satisfied sigh later, and she closed eyes. “Stoner, c’mere baby boy.”

The cat didn’t hesitate, simply laid itself on top of their feet and glared, daring George to fidget.

When he looked down at Lydia, her breathing was even and she was asleep.

Despite his racing heart, a result of his newly realized crush, he fell asleep within the hour.

When dawn broke that morning and the Quidditch team descended for practice, they were found.

The rest of that day Fred and Angelina were insufferable.

* * *

The month of April only went downhill from that night, a week later.

Lydia was eating her breakfast, oatmeal and berries courtesy of Neville, when a typical barn owl came flying in.

Trying to protect her oatmeal since she was particularly hungry (she suspected Madam Pomfrey had slipped her an appetite potion the night before), she watched as the owl sailed towards her.

Apparently owls had a vendetta against her oatmeal, because it dove around her arms and buried the envelope in the oatmeal.

With a grimace of disgust, she wiped the envelope off with her napkin. She could spot the obvious Muggle-ness of it, with her own flat’s address. There, in the top corner, stood her grandmother’s name.

“Oh  _ hell nah _ .”

Katie frowned, the only one not debating Quidditch fouls, and leaned over the table to look. “Who’s Sharon McBrien?”

Lydia didn’t answer her, too busy taking in the letter. A few phrases stuck out in particular, and she couldn’t help repeating, “Mysteriously suffocated . . .trial . . .got off free . . .”

Frowning, Katie leaned closer to read. After a moment, she gasped.

“L-Lydia. Lydia, look at me, darling.”

With shaking hands, Katie took the letter from Lydia’s hands.

It didn’t do much good, since a small photograph fell out of the folds.

Lydia picked it up and stared at the children pictured.

It was a boy and a girl with blonde hair, both looking to be around six years old. They looked asleep, pillows strewn around them.

Lydia looked up at Katie. “I’m gonna fucking cry, I can’t - I can’t do this. Katie.”

Katie grabbed her arm and pulled Lydia to her own chest, telling Alicia, “Love, time for Bear Protocol.”

Alicia, apparently doing what Bear Protocol meant, kicked Lee. “Bear Protocol. Now.”

Immediately, the debate cut off, and the twins slid close together, blocking anyone seeing Lydia from behind them. Lee did the same from her right side, and the three Chaser girls did so on her left.

By the time students began to leave for lessons she was still hyperventilating, and her friends looked seriously concerned.

“Lydia,” Lee was begging, “If you don’t get a breath in soon you're going to faint. Come on, copy Fred’s breathing.”

She shook her head. “C-can’t. Don’t-don’t wanna.”

They didn’t have time to convince her, because Professor McGonagall and Flitwick were there, without any of them noticing.

“Why aren’t you in class - oh goodness, what’s this?” Professor McGonagall, for her part, looked about as alarmed as one could make her. 

Lee was too busy trying to convince Lydia to breathe to answer, so Angelina whispered, “Lydia got a bad letter from home, and she’s been panicking all breakfast. We can’t help her this time, Professor. She’s not breathing right.”

Professor pushed his way through a small gap between Alicia and Katie, and gently spoke in Lydia’s ear.

She shook her head again, and he repeated himself, holding a hand to her back this time.

This time it seemed to work, because she nodded and let herself slump against his shoulders.

The twins held her up so she wouldn’t fall, since at this age she was much taller than their professor. They didn't need to do so long, luckily, because Professor Flitwick simply levitated her and told Professor McGonagall, “Alert her professors she won’t be in lessons today, won’t you? I’m sure Poppy will want to keep her for quite a while.

Professor McGonagall sighed slightly but nodded, mumbling something that said an awful lot like, “Attached much?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves,  
> In case y'all were wondering, my blood results came back positive :) Now just some heart tests on Wednesday (tomorrow0!  
> Alright, notes:  
> I feel like this was lacking a little bit, but hey, plot!!  
> Please leave suggestions for little scenes and/or text aus you'd like to see! Both parts of the series are out.   
> One more chapter until fifth year!! Are you as excited as me for Umbridge?
> 
> words: 3127  
> Next Week: We close the year with tragedy, and Lydia's getting pretty tired of it.


	9. fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As another year ends, Lydia has to wonder: Why can’t her life be ordinary? 
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Or, things hit the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: canon death, panic attack?? kinda?? it’s more of a blackout panic thing.

Lydia was getting pretty tired of the tragedy that seemed to surround her. 

(Yes she’s a little dramatic, but all fifteen year olds are so hush.)

Fred was tired of it too, honestly. 

He doesn’t think it’s unfair to ask the Universe to give his friend a break, just for a year, but apparently Lydia did something awful in a past life and she’s getting punished for it now. 

Even Luna’s odd ability to know the gossip about everyone couldn’t pull Lydia from the fog of grief she was in. 

And there was juicy gossip! Apparently Dean and Parvati had gotten together, then broken it off two times in one week.

Not even to mention that the only time she was aware was to worry about the fast coming third Tournament Task. When she wasn’t worrying for Cedric she was worrying for Harry, and when she wasn’t worrying for Harry she worried for Natalie. (For some reason she had it in her head that Natalie was going to be hurt. No one knew why.)

This fog was only shaken the slightest bit on a warm day in May, when the twins had taken turns sprinting through the castle halls with Lydia on their backs. 

Professor McGonagall, buzzkill she is, had caught them. 

“Put Miss McBrien down, Weasleys!” She had waved her wand, restoring Lydia’s ruffled uniform, then said, “Detention all three of you right this minute! Professor Flitwick will be waiting. Go!”

Fred is pretty sure the detention was just for appearances sake, because when they got to Professor Flitwick’s classroom he had pretended to be disappointed, but when Lydia smiled at him he had smiled back. 

They had practiced charms Fred is pretty sure weren’t supposed to be taught unless paid extra Galleons for, and he gave them all snacks. 

After that day, things seemed to be looking up for Lydia and their friends. 

She was actually excited for lessons and pranks and their sleepovers. (Now held in what they had coined their room, because there were too many of them to sneak in Lydia’s or his own dorm.)

Then, June came and with it, the Final Triwizard Tournament Task. 

* * *

Lydia still didn’t see the point of the Tournament. Why was this exciting and entertaining for everyone else? Were wizards actually so barbaric? Well, yes, yes they were. 

In the early hours of the final task she busied herself by painting Rhys’ fingernails, and plaiting the hair of all her friends that let her. 

Then, after she woke from a nap in George’s lap, she wrote her brother a letter. 

He couldn’t read, but she would teach him. 

_ Nicolas, _

_ Hi, this is your sister, Lydia. As I write this, I’m at school and watching what’s called the Triwizard Tournament. It’s kind of stupid, in my opinion. All we do is watch four students battle things to decide if they’re brave or skilled enough. Whoever wins is supposed to get a bag of gold. But that’s really it. Those of us watching, called spectators, are unable to see much actually. The first task was a dragon: They had to steal from it. The second was them searching for people in a lake, but we could only see the lake’s surface. This one, the third, is a maze: We can only see the tops of the hedge. Quite frankly, I’m bored.  _

_ It’s a little silly, writing you this letter. But you’ll have just turned five, so happy birthday! I know you’ll not have been taught to read yet, but I’ll teach you when I see you this summer. Maybe we can work on your shapes as well.  _

_ I hope everything is going good at dad’s. Life in Ireland is definitely more peaceful than Blue Stone. Here the most eventful thing is either seeing tourists or what goes on at school. In Blue Stone...things are different. Though you know that.  _

_ It looks like Delacour and Krum (2 of the contestants) have been taken out of the maze. I suppose I should start watching for Cedric and Harry. Remind me to tell you about them sometime. Cedric is great, like the older brother I’ve never had. Though, maybe he is closer to a mother? He does quite a lot of mothering.  _

_ Anyway. that’s for another time. He’ll probably mother you too, when you eventually meet.  _

_ Your sister, _

_ Lydia _

She looks up again when people start shouting, and she notices several reporters clicking away with their cameras.

A blue light encases the entire field, and she has to blink a little to see through the mist of it.

Just outside the maze, Harry had appeared, and it looks like Ceddric was with him. They had to be pretty badly injured to have needed to lean on each other.

She takes off her specs to glimpse at the magic, but immediately a pain assaults her entire face.

Ginny slams the specs back over her face.

“Don’t be bloody stupid! Don’t you know how much magic they’re using right now?”

Lydia doesn’t answer that because then Harry is screaming, Delacour is crying, and Amos Diggory is screaming too and sprinting down the stands.

Luna’s hand fists in Lydia’s jumper, so when  Lydia cranes her head and jumps from her seat in shock, Luna is pulled with. The only thing keeping her from sprinting down herself are Lee’s arms around her stomach.

“Lydia, no-”

Then two sets of hands onto holding her arms, and she can’t think straight, something she’ll be embarrassed about later.

But she can’t be embarrassed now because

_ Cedric is bleeding. _

_ Cedric isn’t moving. _

_ Cedric’s dad is sobbing and that means- _

_ They’re pulling Harry away but he won’t let go. He’s crying, he’s screaming, he’s- _

_ Cedric. Harry. Cedric. Harry. Cedric. Harry’s gone, what does that mean? Where- _

_ Delacour is sobbing, Viktor is sobbing, everyone is sobbing. Why are they sobbing? _

_ Cedric’s okay, Madam Pomfrey will fix him up. CedricCedricCedricCedric- _

“Princess! Princess look at us!”

Lydia blinks. “Wh-what? Freddie? Georgie?”

George is crying too, why is he crying? “Lydia, you scared us, don’t-don’t scare us again.”

Lydia frowns, and she looks around. “Where..? Where am I? I thought-”

Luna and Neville are next to her one the bed, Neville with unhealed bruises on his face and Ginny with a wrapped up arm. Luna’s ankle is twisted wrong.

“We could only get in if we were hurt,” Luna says, smiling brightly, but there’s something off. _What is wrong?_ “When you saw...him, you were inconsolable. We’re in a separate room of the hospital wing.”

“M-Madam Pomfrey, she’s here?”

A young wizard, he looked to be just out of Hogwarts, appeared from behind the curtain separating them from the rest of the wing. 

“Madam Pomfrey is currently with someone else. She’ll be available tomorrow, or when she finds time.”

George obviously was strung out, because he snapped, “Get Pomfrey!”

“Madam-”

“Pomfrey will make an exception, Lydia isn’t a normal patient.”

“I really doubt-”

Ginny sneered. “Doubt a little less, or you’re getting boils in places cream can’t reach!”

Neville grinned a little as the boy scampered from the room, then chuckled again when Madam Pomfrey arrived almost immediately. 

“Lydia, thank Morgana you’re awake!”

Lydia reached blearily for Madam Pomfrey’s hands, and the woman grabbed them tight. 

“M-Madam Pomfrey-”

“Hush, you’re alright, my sweet. Are you in pain?”

Madam Pomfrey had trained her well over the years, and Lydia mentally scanned her body. Her arms hurt a little where the twins had held them, but she didn’t want to make them feel bad so she skipped past that. Her migraine had gotten worse, though. 

“My head hurts.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded and took the usual potion from her pocket. 

“I’m only letting you have this because if I leave through that curtain to fetch the cards I’ll not be able to return for a long while. Understand?”

Lydia smiled. “Mhm. I won’t get used to this.”

Madam Pomfrey gave a slight smile and moved hair that had escaped Lydia’s hair tie off of her cheek. 

“Good girl.” Madam Pomfrey looked to the injured students. “Would you like me to heal your injuries, or would you like something to numb it until Lydia leaves?”

Neville looked away guiltily, but Luna said firmly, “Numb them, please.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled and applied the right creams, sitting back on the end of Lydia’s bed. 

“Lydia, is it better now?”

Lydia nodded. “Yes, but I don’t remember why I’m here. What happened?”

They all looked at each other in alarm, and Madam Pomfrey asked, “How far back do you remember?”

“Uh, I was writing my brother a letter, there was a lot of yelling and a blue light - oh.  _ Oh fucking hell.” _

Ginny winced. “Yeah, I’d say you remember now.”

Lydia paid her no mind, because tears were springing to her eyes. Instead of yelling and running, she just wanted to cry in her mom’s lap. 

“ _ Mam _ .” She cried out, and Madam Promfey pulled Lydia forward so the girl could grab onto the woman. 

It happened slowly, but the others began to comfort each other, not having felt safe to do so until their friend was okay. 

Ginny and Luna curled up together on the end of the bed, wrapping their arms around each other. Fred and George twisted until they were tangled close enough to look like one body with two heads, then pulled Neville from his spot on the floor so that his head was between their legs. They carded their fingers through his hair, quickly lulling him to sleep. 

And if later on Professor Flitwick found and joined them? Well, no one needed to know. 

* * *

It’s when she’s packed and the final feast is over that Lydia finds herself wandering the halls alone. She had intended to just return a book to Madam Pince, but her feet had instead brought her to the various places she and Cedric had memories in. 

Like where she was now; Where he had found her wrist sprained from a shove in second year, forced her to the infirmary, and made friends with Stoner. 

She paused and sat in the spot he had stood, and stared around the corridor. 

Harry was walking past angrily, and she spoke up. “Hey, Lightning.”

He looked down at her. “Why are you on the floor?”

Shrugging, she whispered, “Remembering. Why are you angry?”

Harry gave a snort, and completely ignoring her question, held out his hand. “Do you ever clean your specs?”

She smiled slightly. “Why should I, if you always do it for me?”

Her smile fell when the glasses came off, and she felt nauseous. 

Harry’s entire body looked to be wrapped in black and orange vines, as well as a purple tinge from what she assumed were pain potions. There was, as always, the small brown magic in his forehead. 

“...Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Why hasn’t Madam Pomfrey treated you for the stuff all over your body?”

He frowned. “What?”

“It’s like orange and black vines, wrapping all around you. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He swallowed. “Dunno. Her scan probably only shows so much.”

“Well, yes. It only shows minor injuries. She doesn’t do the full because it would list every single injury, as well as any Unforgiv - oh my fucking god! You were hit with an Unforgivable!”

He glared at her, roughly handing the now clean specs back. “Piss off.”

“ _ Harry! _ ”

“Leave it, Lydia. You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I don’t. Because most people wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get help!”

“See you next year.”

As he walked off, she sighed. “Yeah. Next year.”

Just a moment later, as Harry was turning the corner, Katie came running up to her and grabbed her wrist. 

“Hey, there you are! Time for the train. Professor Flitwick gave our group sandwiches and veggies for the ride!”

As another year ends, Lydia has to wonder:  _ Why can’t her life be ordinary?  _

* * *

_ Gringotts Wizarding Bank _

_ London Branch _

_ Sir Ardrig, _

_ I’ll get straight to the point, because I’m poor and don’t want to waste ink, or your time.  _

_ I’ve spoken to the man we last discussed over the summer, and he is amenable to our solution. He has told me the morality issue won’t be a problem, and to do what we need to for the possible condition I told you regarding Lightning. _

_ The list of questions he gave me will be paraphrased below: _

  1. _How?_
  2. _Who will know? Elder won’t like it._
  3. _Will Lightning know?_



_ I answered him in saying what you told me about the two methods, though your idea would work better. We would tell Lightning (as well as his friend, Romulus) before it happens, and likely not Elder. _

_ There is the matter of getting him to the bank, but hopefully you and I can run things without his help for now. _

_ I look forward to hearing from you, Sir Argrig. Do let me know if there is anything I can help with. _

_ May your gold flow, Sir Argrig. _

_ -Dagger _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! Things are really crazy in my life right now, so instead of the usual chapter length you’re gonna get two extra scenes!  
> now for some notes:  
> -that thing about Natalie is totally foreshadowing, guess why ;)  
> -i stan Flitwick so much & im the one writing him  
> -Lydia doesn’t see the excitement of the tournament and neither do i tbh? is it the wizard equivalent of AFV? because i feel like it is.  
> -are you crying at what Lydia wrote about Cedric in her letter? because i sure am. speaking of Cedric, OW MY HEART.  
> -when she calls Pomfrey Mam? yeah i fucking cried. that has been building so long and it only took four goddamn years (or a few months irl) also, that “Pomfrey will make an exception” part? YES. POMFREY LOVES LYDIA AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT.  
> -god, the part where pomfrey & lydia are cuddling, and so are the twins, neville, luna & ginny gets me. and then flitwick joins them?? one big family. i cry.  
> -remember the scene with harry. it’s important ;)  
> -flitwick making sandwiches and veggie bags for his students? we STAN.  
> -hehe Lydia and Argrig are planning.
> 
> words: 2164  
> Next Week: We resume in America, for the beginning of Lydia’s fifth year.


End file.
